


Sight and Silence

by Miajah



Series: Seer [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Denerim, F/M, Ferelden, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Modern Girl in Thedas, Par Vollen, Qunari, Qunari Culture and Customs, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 161,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miajah/pseuds/Miajah
Summary: It was high, too high to jump, but it was just close enough to one of the large walls that she might just be able to make it, or break her legs. Or fall to her death. The shouts of the men in the room and the rush of adrenaline made the decision for her as she stepped up onto the balustrade, carefully standing up as the wind whipped around her.- When Ivy is swept off a boat during a storm off the coast of Australia she feels herself die only to wash up on the shore of a beach. Rescued by the Qunari they discover that she has the ability to see a person's timeline and she is thrown into the ordered chaos of the Qun and becomes a pawn in the Arishok's game. In order to survive she needs to play their game, but quickly learns that she is out of her depth. -





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t the dying part that was horrific, even though it did whack quite the punch. She always knew she was going to die and not-so-secretly hoped that it would be at an old age in her sleep. It was the _cold_ , having been used to the warm, sunny beaches of home she didn’t realise how god damn cold the ocean could be, she was aware of it in theory but being surrounded by it as the net tangled around her legs and dragged her down, as her lungs burned with the need for air as she thrashed and clawed her way to the surface – only to sink further. It was overwhelming. The only thing that she could feel over her panic. As the heavy rolling waves jolted the searchlight of the boat above her she watched the bubbles of air leave her involuntarily, floating up to the surface mockingly as her mind became fuzzy, the last clear thought over the haze being; _This is a shit way to die._

 

It was an even worse way to wake up. Coughing until she expelled the water out of her lungs onto the scorching hot sand, the roar of the ocean surrounding her and the lapping of the waves over her feet telling her that she had somehow survived falling off the fishing boat in the middle of the night, only to be washed up… somewhere. She blinked the sand and salt away from her eyes, mindful not to automatically rub at them and get more sand in them, and looked around. The palm trees were high above her with the sun glinting through the breaks in the leaves and the vegetation of the land was close to the water – nothing like the long beach and short scrub of her home. With a groan she let herself flop back onto the sand, exhaustion ebbing through her body. _Get up._ She scolded herself. _You have to move, find water and people to take you to a hospital._ Her friends were probably devastated, thinking she was dead, too much in grief to appreciate the irony of the one person who didn’t want to go on the damn boat at all being swept away. They’d all laugh about it later, once she had thoroughly guilted them. Shit, she hoped the boat didn’t capsize in the storm.

She heard voices from a distance, a weird language she couldn’t recognise and she was thankful and happy all at once, not only for people – which meant a town or city was nearby – but also because she didn’t have to try to survive in an unknown territory for days. And also because she didn’t have to move much, but just in case they didn’t see her she let out a call anyway. Her weak arm waved at them as her voice croaked out, seeing the tall and strongly built man run towards her along the beach, followed by another that was holding a… spear? Were they divers? Whatever they were she was smiling as they approached, her vision blurring at the edges from exhaustion. She tried to move her legs, as heavy as they were, and promptly gave up once the man knelt by her, she had managed to not pay attention in those moments, one second he was down the beach and the next his knees were next to her face, big hands on her back and forehead as if checking for signs of life. The man murmured in the strange language and got a response from a couple of others – one of which was pulling the heavy weight from her legs – before pressing a waterskin against her lips. She frowned at that, who the hell carries tribal fucking water skins anymore? Her confusion lasted about two seconds as the rush of satisfying cold water on her tongue made her moan embarrassingly. She would never pass up water for any kind of soft drink ever again. Water is amazing. With a laugh the man pulled the waterskin away, saying something low in his guttural language before rolling her over, her head lolled from the movement and she closed her eyes, letting herself pass out.

The next time she came to she could barely see anything aside from the mottled patterns of a jungle canopy as it passed by slowly. She wondered if it was because of exhaustion or exposure to the elements – she had read a story once where a boy washed up on a tropical island and became blinded by the sunlight, maybe the same thing happened to her on a smaller scale? With another groan she turned her head to see more plants and a pair of big legs walking beside her, the familiar voice rumbled and the movement stopped as she was lowered on the ground. Stretcher, she was on a stretcher. The water was pressed to her mouth again and she drank greedily before she was stopped, a large hand touching her chest as if to advise caution. She mumbled a _thank-you_ before touching the hand on her chest, opening her eyes long enough to see grey skin and strangely clawed fingernails. With a huff she flopped her head back and laughed bitterly.  
  
“I’m hallucinating.” She said, her head lolling as she was picked up again and they continued walking.

Wherever she was now, it sure as hell wasn’t Australia. Sure Australia was hot, but it wasn’t _this_ hot. Not in winter, not where she was from and not anywhere close to where the damn boat was. She blinked and struggled against the light, the stone room providing little reprieve against the heat. She sat up, the mattress- which she was seventy percent sure was made of straw- rustled beneath her weight as she swung her legs over and placed her bare feet on the stone ground – it was blissfully cool but it barely registered over the overwhelming confusion of _where_ she was exactly. The far side of the room had a window – which was more like the gaps in stonework in old castles – and she shuffled over to it, her limbs screaming in pain as she tried to straighten up and move. Halfway there she noticed her clothes had changed, her jeans, t-shirt and jacket replaced with some kind of leggings that stopped just below her knees and a loose linen tunic thing, even her bra was gone – but nothing had replaced it. She reached the window and looked out, her breath catching in her throat as she looked out over the stone city, men with spears and swords were walking along battlements as smaller people stood at markets selling things, tall stone spires littered the city as the strong smell of dust and filth and heat wafted up to her, she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and nose, taking a step back away from the window that was showing her weird things and took a long deep breath. Shakily she took a step back to the window and peered out, hoping that it had somehow changed scenery in the five seconds she had moved away from it, but no such luck. She focused on the men walking on the battlements, too far away to see any details, they seemed to be wearing some weird helmets that had horns, at least some of them did, the others-who were much smaller in stature- didn’t seem to be wearing them. She pulled back again from the window, the people down there were definitely armed, not with guns but with more basic weapons.  
  
“Okay.” She spoke to herself absently, nodding despite not accepting her situation “Okay. Time to go.”

Giving her room a cursory glance she found nothing, not even her old clothes or shoes, just a pitcher of water she didn’t drink from because hey- if she is in a weird country, why couldn’t the water be drugged? She thought briefly about why they would bother drugging her if they wanted her alive (since they did go to the trouble of rescuing her) before shoving the thought away and opening the door a crack, she door didn’t make a noise thankfully, and she couldn’t see anyone from the angle she was at so she quietly stepped out, only to jump and squeak when a voice rumbled beside her. She spun quickly before backing up to the other side of a hallway, the man in front of her, whose voice she recognised from the beach was leaning against the wall by the door to her room, except he wasn’t a man, well he was definitely _male_ – he just wasn’t human.

He pushed away from the wall, grey skin covering muscles that moved effortlessly, his height was intimidating but it wasn't so much the grey skin or the sheer size of him, god dammit it was the _horns_. His hand reached out to her, whether to grab or reassure her she didn’t know, and hell, she wasn’t sticking around to find out. With a panicked gasp she bolted down the hallway, feet slapping noisily against the stone as the man yelled at her before chasing her down the hallway. She turned the corner blindly and then another – unaware of where she was going before stopping at a group of the horned people. They looked at her strangely, she noticed the red markings they all wore before the shouts of the first one echoed behind her and she ran down the opposite direction of the hallway, causing the group to chase after her also. Heart pounding she came to the end of the hallway, a door to either side and one on the far wall, she tried the first two, acutely aware of the group of men approaching her warily, the one from the beach holding his hand up and talking to her slowly and loudly, as if that would help her understand his language while the others brandished spears and were steadily pointing them in her direction. The doors locked she tried the last one, a small sound of victory making its way out of her chest before she burst through into a room that was decorated for someone important. She took no time to glance around, only to see a large balcony on the other side just past large billowing red curtains, she sprinted for it, stopping at the curve of the stone balustrade and looking over. It was high, too high to jump, but it was just close enough to one of the large walls that she might just be able to make it, or break her legs. Or fall to her death. The shouts of the men in the room and the rush of adrenaline made the decision for her as she stepped up onto the balustrade, carefully standing up as the wind whipped around her. A deep breath and shoving away the part of her mind that screamed _bad idea_ she crouched to jump.

Giant hands wrapped around her waist and yanked her backwards with a scream, she thrashed and kicked out, trying to make it as difficult to hold her in place as possible. The arms placed her on the ground and spun her easily, one giant clawed hand coming to her throat and damn near lifting her off the ground as a big male – even bigger than the ones that was chasing her – scowled at her. His silver-white hair flicked as he turned his head and spoke low and careful to the others – who dropped to one knee in response. Gasping and slapping as the man’s arm he turned to look her in the eyes, they were dark where they should have been white and the iris was a light grey, it sent shivers down her spine as she met them and he lowered her to be on the floor completely, not relinquishing his grip on her throat.

A pain lanced through her head and it made her eyes roll back – a sudden deafening roar echoed as her mind flooded with images of the man and she all of a sudden knew who he was. He was the Arishok, he was a Qunari. With a gasp she pushed herself back and fell to the floor, scrambling until she hit the wall, panting as the one from the beach kneeled next to her.  
  
“Holy shit.” She gasped as a hand was placed on her shoulder to secure her. “I must be dead.” She had to be, she thought as she was pushed over and a rope was tied around her wrists. There was no other explanation, how else would she end up in a world that only existed in a game?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself, this idea had been plaguing me so I had to write it out!  
> I promise that my other fics are still being updated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The view before her was amazing, the city sprawled with towers and alleyways, dust rising from the busy streets. Far beyond the city the jungle was thick before giving way to ocean that was a beautiful light blue

She had a long time to wonder if she was in hell, or purgatory, or just dreaming. They had tied her up after her poor attempt of an escape- which later she scolded herself for because even if she _did_ manage to escape, then what? It’s not like she knew anything about the area she was in or how to get home. And running away meant that if the Qunari were willing to try to help her before, well, they would just be suspicious of her now, which was reflected by the fact she was in a dungeon, and had been for at least four days.

She had been convinced for one of the days that she was dreaming, but that idea gave way when she couldn’t remember any other dream she had that was so vivid, she’d never dreamed about hunger, exhaustion or pain like this and she never felt stone and sand so realistic or metal bars so detailed in dreams before. Purgatory was another thing, if she had died maybe she was in limbo, but if she was dead why would she still eat, sleep and pee?

The lock on the large wooden door that led to the room of cells turned over with a metallic clunking sound and she sat up enough to prop herself against the stone wall and see her approaching visitor. The Qunari from the beach had been bringing her food once a day, but he had already visited a few hours ago, talking to her quietly in his language and shaking his head when she questioned him in English. In walked a tall Qunari, his wide horns jutting out from either side of his head before curling up at the tips, he was the first she had seen with horns like that, though she doubted it was uncommon. After a moment of looking her over from the door he walked to face her directly, the cell bars the only thing blocking his view as he pulled over a chair and sat down on it, still watching her silently.

It was a couple of minutes of staring at her, of analysing each subtle movement she made and each slight hitch in her breath before he finally spoke.  
  
“Have you been treated well?” He asked in a deep, rough voice and she was surprised at both the question itself and that she could understand him. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling a fleeting flash of hope as she shifted to sit up more and give the newcomer her attention.  
  
“You speak English?” She asked, hating her voice for sounding so uncertain. The pause and curious look she received made her regret her question.  
  
“I speak the King’s Tongue.” He rumbled in reply and she couldn’t stop her lips from mumbling over the phrase. “I assumed that as you did not understand the Sten that had been assigned to you and, of course, you are human, that you would speak common as others do. Am I correct in this or are you still having trouble understanding?” She shook her head and he gave her a half smile as if happy with the progress. “Good. Now would you answer my first question?” he asked and she frowned as she tried to remember it. “Are you being treated well?” he asked, gesturing to the cell she sat in.  
  
“I-” her voice broke and she swallowed. “I am in a dungeon. But I’m alive and you seem to want me to stay that way so I can’t really complain.” He hummed and gave a single nod, apparently satisfied with the answer.  
  
“Which is curious considering you outran four Sten and intruded on the Arishok’s chambers before trying to jump to the battlements – all without provocation I may add. At no point were you in danger of being harmed and yet you were determined to escape.” He leaned forward to peer at her through the bars.  
  
“It wasn’t my finest moment, I agree.” She said meekly. “I was… confused.”  
  
“Confused enough to risk your life by jumping off a balcony?” he asked incredulously to which the answer he received was a half-shrug. He frowned and waved his hand as if dismissing the subject. “No matter, we can speak of that later. Given the nature of your arrival here the Arishok is still willing to allow you to return home – once we have determined that you are not a spy.”  
  
“A spy?” she parroted but he ignored her.  
  
“If you tell me of whom in your family in Ferelden I could contact I can at least assure them you are safe.” He said as he pulled a square of paper and a small stick of charcoal out of his pocket, looking at her expectantly.  
  
“Ferelden? I- no.” she said, stopping herself from revealing too much of her circumstance, without knowing how he would react to her claiming she was from a different world it was probably best to keep that information to herself. “No family.” She said quietly before pulling her knees up to her chest.  
  
“But you are from Ferelden.” He insisted. “Your accent is a bit strange but it’s certainly that area.”  
  
“I’m not really from anywhere.” She replied and he sat back, giving her a measured stare as if he were pulling everything she said and did apart.  
  
“What do you remember before waking up on the beach?” he asked, frowning. This, at least, she could tell him as close to the truth as possible.  
  
“I was on a fishing boat when a storm hit. I was washed overboard.” She said. Suddenly he stood and put the paper back into his pocket, giving her a final stare before turning to leave.  
  
“I will return tomorrow, we will talk more then.” He said. She wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she was soon at the bars as he was walking away.  
  
“Hey, what’s your name?” she called out to him, he was the first person she came across that she could speak to, she wanted to at least know _who_ he was. He paused and turned to her.  
  
“Qunari don’t have names. I am Ben-Hassrath.”  
  
“Ben-Hassrath isn’t your name?” She asked, confused.  
  
“No.” He said flatly. “It is my role under the Qun.”  
  
“Surely you have names you give each other.” She said a little exasperatedly. “I can’t imagine it’s easy to single out one Ben-Hassrath in a room of them.” This earned her a huffed laugh.  
  
“Hissrad,” he supplied. “It is not a name, but if you ask for it they will send for me.” She smiled and nodded in thanks, a moment passing before she let her head fall against the metal bars, the vibrations running through her hands that gripped them.  
  
“I’m Ivy.” She said without looking at him.  
  
“Until tomorrow, Ivy.”

 

Tomorrow came with an insufferable heat that even the stone and metal couldn’t hold back, it also came with a new inmate that was confined two cells over, an elf that gave her a smirk as he was escorted past. The Sten came and went with the food, even though it was far too hot to eat in Ivy’s opinion, and by mid afternoon she was lying on her back, shirt lifted to press the cool stone to her skin while her legs were propped high against the bar. The elvhen prisoner was chatting idly about how many dungeons he had been in and how he would escape this one too, but she didn’t respond to him, something was off about the man- aside from the fact that he was a prisoner.

The door opened and the Qunari from the day before walked in and situated the chair in front of her cell as he did previously, the actions seemed automatic and calculated – but it could be the way he held himself, confident and purposeful as he sat and regarded the woman lying down with her feet in the air. Ivy turned her head to watch him but made no movement to sit up and speak to him as she had done before, he may have taken it as being disrespectful, but she was honestly just too hot and uncomfortable to move.  
  
“Hissrad.” She said in greeting and he gave her a half smile.  
  
“Ivy.” He replied. “I take it you are unaccustomed to our heat.”  
  
“I am not _unaccustomed_ to it.” She said with a sigh. “But I have never been able to tolerate hot weather.”  
  
“Difficult when you are on a fishing boat, no shade to protect you from the sun.” He pointed out and she returned to stare at the ceiling.  
  
“I guess so, but I wasn’t there to fish.” She said and the silence that followed prompted her to look at her visitor who was waiting patiently for her to continue. “My friends thought it would be a good idea to spend a night on a boat. Said it would be fun.”  
  
“So you were only a day’s travel from your home?” he asked, no hint of emotions or curiosity and he got a shrug in return. Ivy wondered if she started lying, or at least stayed vague if it would get her very far, she didn’t know enough of the land or customs to lie outright but telling the truth seemed implausible. Hissrad wouldn’t believe her, let alone think she was sane. “Where did you depart from?” he asked.  
  
“Nowhere nearby.” She answered with an exasperated sigh, rubbing her forehead.  
  
“You are purposely avoiding my questions,” he said as he shifted forward to get a better view of her, “If you want to return home the best way to do so is to cooperate with me, you will only leave this cell once we know you are not a threat to the Qun and the only way for you to prove that is by talking to me.” He stated and Ivy felt an overwhelming rush of emotions, she flung her arm over her face to hide in the crook of her elbow, tears threatening as she breathed steadily to calm herself.  
  
“If I thought you could get me home,” she said quietly, “I would be saying everything you ever wanted to hear.”

Silence passed between them as Ivy remained on the floor, face hidden in her arm. Hissrad eventually stood and returned the chair to its original spot, pausing briefly at her bars to tell her he would return the next day. Once the door closed and locked behind him the elvhen prisoner let out a snort.  
  
“Fucking Ben-Hassrath.” He growled. “You be careful what you let slip girlie, they see through everything. I’d wager that one knows more about you now that you know about yourself.” Ivy could hear him stand and shuffle to be closer to her. “What the hell did you do to get their attention anyway?”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean.” Ivy said flatly, not putting in the energy to carry on the conversation.  
  
“Ben-Hassrath don’t come down for petty criminals.” He said. “They’re spies themselves, trained for things like information gathering and infiltration. You must have done something.”  
  
“I just fell of a boat, nothing special.” Ivy sighed.  
  
“Yeah well, just don’t piss him off.” He cleared his throat before walking away, the slap of his palms against the stone echoing in the room. “No matter, we’ll get out of here girlie, you an me.” She didn’t reply.

 

At least a week had passed in the dungeon since she first arrived in it, and when you added the day she spent in the other room it had been eight days since she was swept off the boat. She wondered about her family and friends, if they were still searching for her – didn’t they call off an ocean search after a week? Would they assume she’s dead by now if they can’t find her body? She let out a loud groan of frustration which earned a smart remark from the elvhen prisoner – Tomen, he helpfully supplied his name after a day or so as he rambled at her - _Toe-mhen, not two-men, there’s only one of me girlie and one is all you’ll ever need._

Hissrad had visited her every day, their conversations weren’t overly enlightening and barely lasted longer than ten minutes each but she found them somewhat comforting, it gave her a marker for when the day was nearly over since he visited the same time each afternoon. She was pacing along her three-step-wide cell when he visited again, placing the chair in the exact same spot and sitting down to watch her for a moment before speaking.  
  
“You are restless.” He said as she turned to walk back to the other side of the cell.  
  
“I feel like my muscles are wasting away.” She replied, stretching her arms up high and baring a glimpse of her midsection.  
  
“You are marked.” He said with a hint of surprise in his voice, it took a moment for Ivy to understand what he was referring to and when she did she lifted her shirt to see the tattoo on her side. It stretched from her hip to her shoulder blade, a pattern of roses and ravens – because she thought she was original at the time. “I did not see it the other day, you must have been lying away from me.” It seemed that he was scolding himself for missing such a detail. “What is it’s meaning?”  
  
“No meaning.” Ivy said to him with a smile, somewhat happy to not be talking about home. “I drew it and liked it enough to have it tattooed.”  
  
“You are talented.” He said and stood to lean against the bars. “Such talents are valuable to the military.” Ivy snorted indelicately.  
  
“How is drawing useful to the military?” she asked.  
  
“Scouts can draw the lay of the land or a city and send it with their report, an image is much more useful than a page of descriptions.” He stated.  
  
“I didn’t know that.” She said casually before leaning against the bars a step away from Hissrad. “It seems I’ve wasted my talents on drawing cute things to try and make people like me.” He chuckled at that, it was deep and made the bars vibrate.

They talked for a while after that, much longer than usual and about things that weren’t related to her. Hissrad spoke about scouts he knew and a couple of funny stories – things that Ivy couldn’t use even if she were a spy- and before long he was placing his chair back and saying goodbye.  
  
“Careful girlie,” Tomen muttered after Hissrad had left, “you start liking them and then that’s it – you’ll tell them everything they want.”

 

The next time Hissrad arrived it was with two other Qunari, they were well armed and looking generally upset, except for Hissrad who looked quite cheerful and was holding a rope.  
  
“We’re going for a walk today.” He said and gestured at the cell door, an instruction to the other guard to unlock it.  
  
“Have you finally decided if I am a threat?” Ivy asked and he stepped into the cell, Ivy did not stand or make movements, just in case they took it the wrong way.  
  
“No, but you are becoming restless and I will not have someone under my care suffer.” He said and knelt to tie the rope around her wrists, Ivy calmly watched, no point in fighting, even if she _could_ fight the three of them would overpower her instantly.

One guard in front and one behind she walked beside Hissrad out of the dungeons, he led her up stairs and through hallways until they came out onto the battlements and her breath hitched at the sudden touch of fresh air and sunlight. They continued to a large landing where they stopped and Hissrad leaned against the stone half-wall. The view before her was amazing, the city sprawled with towers and alleyways, dust rising from the busy streets. Far beyond the city the jungle was thick before giving way to ocean that was a beautiful light blue. She must have looked like a fool with her mouth hanging open because Hissrad laughed and moved to stand beside her.  
  
“Not a bad sight is it?” he said proudly.  
  
“Hissrad,” she said hesitantly, almost too quietly. “Where are we?” he frowned at her a moment before answering.  
  
“Par Vollen.” He said, as if she should have already known. _Par Vollen_ her mind echoed, the weight of her situation crashing onto her – at least in the dungeon she could try to entertain the idea of getting home, but this – this view, this city, this was far removed from anything she had ever seen before. She dimly realised that she was hoping that everything was an elaborate prank; that someone was going to show up and say ‘ _Gotcha! Man you should have seen your face.’_ A big shaky breath later she could feel a tear escape and roll down her cheek, thankfully Hissrad didn’t point it out or make a fuss. “What do you think?” he asked.  
  
“I think-” her breath hitched. “I think I would like to go back to my cell, please.”  
  
“You are certain?” he said curiously. “You were in that cell for over a week.” She nodded quickly and he moved to stand in front of her, blocking the offending view. “Will you not tell me the truth?” he asked quietly, his large hands reaching up to cup her jaw and neck as if to comfort her. “I am not here to cause you harm.” Ivy was oddly thankful for the touch against her skin, having been deprived of contact since she woke up, she glanced up to meet his concerned look and with a long breath parted her lips to respond.

As she met his look it was as if something connected between her mind and his – a sharp click and blinding pain in her head that sent her eyes rolling back and made her knees give out, she knew she was sliding down and she knew that Hissrad was trying to support her, calling her name loudly but she couldn’t focus on that despite trying hard. Instead, images were surfacing in her mind, so real she felt she should be able to touch and move about in them as if they were her own life, only they weren’t, they were Hissrad’s. Flashes of training with weapons and talking with people, of fighting and even of talking with an image of herself in a cell. Of him sitting, unmoving in a jungle covered in blood and being struck with a Morningstar, laughing and drinking with elves, dwarves and humans - of standing in the snow with-

Ivy came back to herself with a gasp as if she hadn’t breathed for minutes – Hissrad hovering over her looking worried and the other two Qunari stood with their spears pointed at her. His hands were gone from her skin but were barely an inch above it, she could still feel the heat radiating from them.  
  
“You’re-” it hurt to speak, the sound grating in her head. “You can’t be.” She noticed she was lying on the battlement, but wasn’t scratched or bruised –she had been lowered gently.  
  
“I’m what?” Hissrad prompted gently as she shook her head, eyes closed against the sun. “Ivy, tell me.” He demanded.  
  
“You’re The Iron Bull.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not going anywhere.” She said and tried to pull her arms away, he held on tight and jerked them back towards himself.

The return to her cell was silent, the rope remaining on her wrists as the door was closed and locked behind her, Hissrad- no, _Iron Bull-_ left without saying a word, taking the two Qunari with him. She sat down where they left her, back to the bars and took long, calming breaths. What the hell was happening to her?

She managed to fall into a fitful sleep, curled up on her side when she awoke to the sound of metal falling and a man swearing. She sat up quickly to see Tomen at her door, picking the lock with a shard of metal.  
  
“ _What are you doing?”_ she hissed at him, mindful not to make loud sounds. “ _You’re going to get us killed.”_  
  
“Nah, girlie.” He said, full concentration on the lock. “Told you we’re gettin’ out of here. No dungeon can hold me and, shit, you might as well come along.” He let out a small pleased sound and slowly opened the cell door, silently walking over to pull at the knot on the rope around her wrists.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere.” She said and tried to pull her arms away, he held on tight and jerked them back towards himself.  
  
“What you’d rather stay and rot away here?” he shook his head, brown hair flicking about his face. Ivy wasn’t sure what she wanted, she could try to get out and have half a chance of escaping – but to where? She didn’t know anyone outside and she sure as hell didn’t think putting her life in the hands of a chatty, probable criminal was the best idea.

But if she _did_ escape and made it elsewhere, she might be able to find some mages to help her get home, she knew that the Qunari didn’t trust mages and so wouldn’t be able to find them freely here, if she made it to somewhere like Ferelden- but what year was it? She had no idea of _when_ she was, the only clue she had was that Iron Bull still had both eyes and the Arishok was alive in Par Vollen, which put it before a lot of the events that she knew about, could it be before the Blight in Ferelden? Or during?

The rope slipped away and Tomen walked out of the cell, listening for people approaching and beckoning her to follow, Ivy sat and crossed her legs, shaking her head.  
  
“I’m not going.” She firmly said, Tomen rolled her eyes before crouching in front of her.  
  
“Girlie, I like you, and trust me when I say you don’t want to hang around much longer, your Hissrad friend didn’t look impressed when he threw you back in here.”  
  
“Trust you?” Ivy said incredulously. “I don’t even _know_ you.”  
  
“Yeah but you do know the way outside, don’t you?” he said with a smirk that made her stomach flip anxiously. “So get up and start walking.”  
  
“ _No._ ” she said defiantly. “You want to get out? Up three flight of stairs and left down the hallway. It’s not exactly hard.” He sighed and shook his head at her, standing and closing the cell door gently behind him but not locking it.  
  
“You’ll regret staying girlie, but good luck to you.” He went to the main door, picking the lock quickly before sparing her a glance and slipping out.

 

Dawn came and with it the usual patrol, who stepped into the dungeon with a skeptical look on his face, probably because the door that led out was unlocked. He walked in and took note of Ivy sitting in the centre of her cell before walking to the far end of the room, letting out a loud angry yell when he found Tomen missing.

Five minutes later the guard returned with Iron Bull who gave the empty cell a look over before flicking the cell lock and talking to the guard in his own language. He stopped by Ivy’s cell and gave her a calculating look before tapping on her door – which swung open enough to show it was unlocked.  
  
“The thief unlocked your cell and untied you.” He stated.  
  
“Yes.” Ivy said, not moving or making any intimidating or suspicious movements.  
  
“Why, then, are you still here?” he stepped in and picked up the loose rope from the floor, examining it as he held it with one finger.  
  
“Where would I go?” She asked in return.

They wasted time with asking her questions about Tomen’s escape, she answered them all but given she didn’t really _know_ anything it didn’t help them much. She couldn’t tell them when it was or how he did it exactly, but as far as she could gather he managed to get away without being seen by anyone.

A few more hours later and Iron Bull returned, tying up her wrists and pulling her out of the dungeon. He said nothing and barely looked at her as she walked with him and an accompany of guards to a part of the building she hadn’t seen before, the narrow hallways gave way to larger passageways where all kinds of people milled about and rushed through. Large archways lined the wall to her right, showing the cityscape and pale gossamer curtains billowed gently from the breeze, it was beautiful and she felt very out of place in her dirty clothes as she was scrutinized by tall Qunari men and women in bright silks.

They passed through large, ornately carved double doors, the doors themselves were as tall as her house was – an image of a battle decorating the wood, and proceeded into an antechamber of sorts where a man with a piece of paper and an honest to god _quill_ was taking down information that Iron Bull was giving him quietly in his own language. The scribe gave Ivy an incredulous look, as if she were the source of all his troubles, before pointing to the next set of large doors. Iron Bull tugged the rope he was leading her by and strode into the room. It was a large area with the two walls on either side covered in the large archways and light curtains, the room itself was empty save for three large chairs on a platform at the far end and a small desk which a scribe-looking elf sat patiently.

A door at the corner of the room opened and three intimidating Qunari walked in, Iron Bull bowed automatically and Ivy followed his lead. She was nervous, unsure of what was happening but it almost felt like she was about to be judged. Glancing up she saw the Arishok take a seat in the middle chair, he seemed to relax into the chair and be ready for action at the same time, his dark eyes made her spine shiver as he raked them over her bowed form. Two women entered behind him and sat on the remaining chairs, the one to his left had dark grey skin, her purple eyes were coldly curious and she held her head high in a regal manner, to his right the woman was smaller and pale, her skin a light gold-grey and hair white, her gold eyes blinked lazily in a show of boredom. Iron Bull straightened up and Ivy followed suit, not meeting the eyes of the three before her just in case they took it as a sign of disrespect. The purple eyed woman spoke with authority once they had made themselves comfortable.  
  
“We will speak in the common tongue so the prisoner understands.” She addressed he room while pinning Ivy to the spot with her stare. “Ben-Hassrath, your report.”  
  
“Yes, Ariqun.” Iron Bull rumbled and gave a short bow. “Ten days ago the prisoner was found by a patrol along the southern coast, she was barely conscious having apparently washed up onto the beach after the large storm. The Sten assisted her and brought her back to the city and placed her in the care of healers within the palace, they confiscated items she was found with-” at this Iron Bull gestured to a guard behind him who strode forward and lay out Ivy’s clothes and a part of the fishing net that had tangled her legs on the floor in front of the three Qunari. They narrowed their eyes at her old clothing – particularly her sneakers and bras. “According to the palace tailors they cannot identify the origin of the style of clothing or materials used.” The women murmured to each other in their language while the Arishok remained staring at Ivy, she struggled not to shift nervously under the gaze.  
  
“Continue.” The golden Qunari insisted.  
  
“According to the Sten’s report,” Iron Bull continued, “When the prisoner awoke she walked out of the assigned room, the Sten attempted to ask if she needed assistance however she ran and the Sten had to give chase. She gained the attention of a small group of Sten who attempted to assist by joining the pursuit, having made her way into the residential wing of the palace the prisoner gained access to the Arishok’s quarters and promptly ran to the balcony where she attempted to jump before she was apprehended by the Arishok.” Iron Bull spared a glance at Ivy before clearing his throat. “As the prisoner was restrained by the Arishok her eyes appeared to turn white and she seemed to be in pain before she was released and she backed away claiming she was dead.”  
  
“We understand she spent some time in the dungeons, skip ahead to the information you have gathered Ben-Hassrath.” The Ariqun demanded.  
  
“The prisoner claims to have no family, her accent is closest to those of Ferelden however she revealed that she was on a fishing vessel for recreation only a day away from her home before she was swept overboard during the storm. To corroborate the story the Sten confirms she was found with the fishing net tangled around her legs – the net is also made of a material we cannot identify.”  
  
“There is no close settlement by sea from Par Vollen.” The Arishok rumbled, dismissive of the information. “If she claims she was close to her homeland then she would have been floating in the water for weeks.”  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” Iron Bull agreed. “However the healers have confirmed that her injuries were consistent with only a day’s exposure and inhaling water.”  
  
“Then what is your opinion, Ben-Hassrath?” The Ariqun asked and Iron Bull gave a small sigh before giving Ivy a calculating look.  
  
“The prisoner believes that she cannot return home, even with the assistance of yourselves, she believes this enough that she remained in her cell when her fellow prison escaped and freed her from her bonds, and given her strange accent and belongings I also doubt that her homeland can be traced to somewhere on our maps.” The women murmured to each other again and the Arishok leaned forward curiously. “She does, however, possess talents that could be useful to our military. She can draw and is a fast runner – if I may be so bold, she has potential to be a scout.”  
  
“It is not the place of a Ben-Hassrath to determine such things.” The golden Qunari scolded him. “You are not a Tamassran, do not conduct yourself as one.”  
  
“I apologize, Arigena, I will refrain from such observations.” Iron Bull bowed as he spoke, the Arigena nodded once, apparently satisfied with the apology. “There is one more matter that I need to bring to the attention of the Ariqun, it may be useful information for our priests.”  
  
“And what is that?” The Ariqun asked.  
  
“I believe the prisoner is a Seer.”

The three were silent and glaring at Ivy as if they could see into her soul. Iron Bull stood straight and proud, unflinching under their scrutiny.  
  
“What evidence do you have of this?” The Ariqun spoke.  
  
“The prisoner had a fit when the Arishok touched her, it was dismissed as some kind of seizure by the healers, however she had another one when I took her to the battlement. It was the same kind of situation – I had to touch her skin and she had another fit, but when she came to she knew… _personal_ information about me. Information that I have not shared with her.” The three gave each other loaded looks before the Ariqun spoke.  
  
“Step forward, prisoner.” She beckoned with her hand. Ivy glanced at Iron Bull who gave her a slight nod, tentatively she stepped forward two paces, putting her closer to the three. “What is your name?” It was a simple enough question, but she stuttered answering it all the same.  
  
“Ivy. Ivy Volkev.” She said.  
  
“And is Ben-Hassrath correct in saying you have visions?” The Arigena asked.  
  
“I-I don’t know what they are.” She stammered. “It was like standing next to Ir- Ben-Hassrath, but somewhere else.”  
  
“What did you see when I touched you?” The Arishok demanded to know, still leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Flashes, of you fighting. Then I just knew who you were.” Ivy said.

They talked among themselves and Iron Bull pulled Ivy back to stand beside him once more. The two women seemed to be arguing while the Arishok sat quietly, listening to the women and interjecting with a word or two at certain points. Eventually he held his hand up to silence them and they sat back with a huff.  
  
“We could not come to a decision regarding your fate and so we will now vote on it.” The Arigena spoke. “Your arrival is timely, what with the whispers of a new Blight in the southern lands, you wear odd clothes made out of material we have never seen before and claim to be able to pull information from our minds. While strange happenings are all too common in this age – I believe it is too much of a risk to let you go unchecked. My vote is that you be put to death so you cannot be a threat to the Qun.” Ivy felt the colour drain from her face, _put to death!?_ The Ariqun then faced her and began to speak.  
  
“Arigena is correct in her concern, if you can do what you claim you could indeed become a threat to us. However, _I_ have read the full reports on you and believe otherwise.” Ivy felt some tension drain from her core – but not much. “You could have made your escape easily when the elvhen prisoner freed you and yet you remained, this shows me that you are unsure of your purpose, and while Ben-Hassrath is not a Tamassran he _is_ an exceptional judge of character. If he believes that you could be useful to the Qun, then I support this decision. My vote is that you be converted and work with the priests, this ability of yours seems to be in its infancy – my people will be able to help you harness it.”

The Arishok regarded her silently, his silver hair cascading over his shoulders and moving in the slight breeze. The women beside him watched out of the corners of their eyes, waiting patiently for his vote.  
  
“I care not that you attempted to resolve your character by remaining in the prison, if anything it shows a lack of self-preservation.” He said and Ivy’s stomach churned nervously. “However, if you are from lands beyond our borders there is much we could learn.”  
  
“She does not need to be free for that,” the Arigena interrupted, “that information can be coerced from her.”  
  
“This is true.” The Arishok agreed, narrowing his eyes at Ivy who felt like she was about to faint. “But a Seer is rare among the Qun, if she could be trained to control her visions then she would be valuable to us.”  
  
“Your vote, Arishok?” The Ariqun prompted.  
  
“My vote is that she lives.” He rumbled and Ivy’s knees buckled from relief, it didn’t go unnoticed by the Qunari and the three gave her exasperated looks. “Ben-Hassrath, organise for a room and inform the priests and trainers that they have a new pupil.”  
  
“I will house her with the viddithari.” Iron Bull spoke and bowed in confirmation.  
  
“No,” the Arishok ordered, “until we know the full extent of her abilities and intentions she will be confined to private quarters. I leave the choice of her teachers to you, Ben-Hassrath.” At that the Arishok stood as did the women and they strode out, Bull and Ivy bowed as they left and remained that way until the door was shut behind them. Bull turned to her and smirked, untying the rope from her hands.  
  
“Welcome to the Qun, Seer.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Words are useless.” He scolded her. “If you are truly repentant, you will do better.” Ivy couldn’t have felt smaller at that moment, the enormity of the completely alien culture crashing into her all over again.

The sting of the willow switch that the priest held ebbed away slowly as Ivy bit her lip to refrain from yelling at her. She was a month into her _training_ with the Qunari and felt that she was getting nowhere. Iron Bull had returned her to the room she had first awoken in, telling her that it was now her room and not to let it become unkempt, and assigned the Sten from the beach to guide her for the first week around the winding stone streets.

Her days consisted of waking at dawn and physical training in the morning, which was more than embarrassing as she was put into a group of children who were far better trained than her, then studying with the priests and the other new ‘converts’ until the sun began to set. The converts she studied with were a mix of willing students and what seemed to be war prisoners, the ones who refused to study the Qun and try to learn Qunlat – the language of the Qunari – were dragged away by the Sten and didn’t come back. Ivy wasn’t keen to see what happened to them and tried to concentrate on learning the language, but it was difficult.

After dusk she was to get food in the mess area and then assist the workers there in cleaning until the eighth bell rang before meeting Iron Bull back at the training grounds for some extra physical training. He wasn’t happy at her progress (or lack of) and was determined to get her to be able to defend herself within six or so months. Ivy couldn’t comprehend even being _alive_ in six months, especially with the punishing routine that was suddenly thrust upon her, it was so far removed from the 8 hour job and three meals a day from home. Near midnight she would fall onto the straw mattress after a quick visit to the bathing house, which was almost always blissfully empty at that time of night, and would sleep heavily before being woken up by the dawn bells and starting all over again.

The worst of the training she was being put through wasn’t being beaten up by children or being whipped by the priests for slouching, or being thrown into the dirt by Iron Bull for the thousandth time. It was when she had to work with the mages and their keepers on creating and controlling her visions, which was supervised fiercely by one of the priests. Thankfully it wasn’t every day, they deemed it fit to give her mind a rest every second day, but it was four hours of mind splitting pain. Each time she touched and made eye contact with the volunteer Viddithari her brain felt like it was splintering before spilling forth images and sensations. She could barely hold onto them for more than a few seconds without collapsing, and the few times the priest instructed for the volunteer to hold onto her skin and maintain eye contact she ended up unconscious on the floor and her nose pouring with blood.

 

That night Ivy was thrown into the dirt by Iron Bull yet again and she paused and stared up to the starry sky, her exhausted brain was unable to comprehend how she got to be lying on her back in the dust of the training circle or what she did wrong in the hand to hand combat to end up there. Iron Bull- or Hissrad as he quietly insisted she call him- stepped up and looked down on her, his eyes hard as he waited for her to move.  
  
“Get up.” He demanded and grabbed the front of her tunic to pull her up, dragging her unwilling body to it’s feet before pushing her back towards the centre of the circle.  
  
“I don’t understand this.” She huffed and complained as she stood in the required stance tiredly. Iron Bull sighed in irritation and corrected her stance before taking up his own. “I’ve never been a physically active person, I’m never going to be a skilled fighter-”  
  
“Then you will learn.” He said flatly. “If you cannot harness your control over your visions then you must show your value elsewhere. The Arishok will rescind his decision if you are found to be wanting.” He moved to strike at her with his fist and she sloppily slapped it away, it wasn’t perfect but it was effective enough to send his fist careening to the right.  
  
“The Arishok has been checking up on me?” she asked a little surprised, she hadn’t seen or heard from him since the day she was judged by the Three Pillars of the Qun.  
  
“He is sent reports.” Iron Bull said as he extended his leg and threw Ivy over his thigh, sending her flying and landing on her back in the dust again. “He returns from the campaign in a month, we have until then to prove your worth.”

 

Nearly exactly a month later she found herself with Iron Bull in a large office like room. Bookshelves lined the wall and where they stopped maps that were made from hide were hung. Ivy stood nervously in front of the Arishok as he wrote on a parchment with strong, purposeful strokes, glancing at Iron Bull who was standing to attention. She had spent enough time with him now to notice the subtle changes in his body when he was relaxed or nervous and right now he seemed on edge, his jaw clenched every now and then and his spine was curiously straight. Could he be nervous for her? Was he wary of being punished if he failed in this mission to train her?  
  
“Report, Ben-Hassrath.” The Arishok rumbled without looking up from his parchment, instead he shifted it aside and picked up another to concentrate on. Iron Bull looked to Ivy for a brief moment before pulling a parchment out of his belt and reading from it.  
  
“The Seer has spent two months in training, showing competency for basic hand to hand combat and shield defense, lacking in archery skills-” Ivy grimaced at that, she was appalling at archery, enough that Iron Bull interfered and confiscated the training bow from her, “and translating Qunlat. The Priests remarked that although her writing is not progressing well she is much more advanced in speaking Qunlat. The Tamassrans have noted that she has improved significantly physically, outpacing many others in her troupe and developing a strong physique.” Ivy was put off somewhat at knowing someone was reporting on her _physique_ but hey, a positive report was a positive report.  
  
“And the visions?” The Arishok asked as he looked up, placing his huge hand under his jaw as if his head weighed too much and he needed the support.  
  
“Length of unassisted visions has grown to an average of seven seconds, when forced the visions continue until the Seer is rendered unconscious.” Iron Bull supplied.  
  
“And your personal opinion?” The Arishok asked with a hint of boredom, Iron Bull paused, almost surprised at the request of his own view but he hid it well.  
  
“I stand by my initial suggestion,” Iron Bull said carefully, “her lack of language skills would hinder the priests, but the military would give her purpose.” The Arishok was silent, staring at Ivy who stood unflinching, eyes focused on a blue book sitting on the third row of the bookshelves behind the massive Qunari. He tapped his finger twice on the desk and she managed not to flinch at the sound.  
  
“I am disappointed that she is unable to read Qunlat, what use would she be in the ranks if she could not comprehend the missives sent to her garrison?” He sighed and leaned back without breaking his gaze from her. “And she is too old to begin proper training now, I’ll not risk my soldiers in such a way.” Iron Bull hummed in agreement, although somewhat reluctantly. Ivy felt her stomach sink and bile rise to her throat, she forced the feeling of panic down knowing it would not help her cause to stay alive. “Continue the training.” He ordered Iron Bull who curtly bowed. “We shall see if her purpose becomes clear. Seer,” he addressed her and she gave him eye contact for the first time since she arrived “you will report to me on the fifth bell each day, since the priests are lacking in their ability to teach you I will do so. The remainder of the time you would usually spend with them you will focus on harnessing your visions. Should I be away from Par Vollen then you will return to the priests. Do you comprehend what I’m saying?” Ivy paused a moment before bowing curtly, surprised at the sudden change.  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” She replied and he hummed affirmatively.  
  
“Leave now.” He ordered and Iron Bull ushered her subtly out of the door, grinning at her widely once they were in the hallway.  
  
“Congratulations on keeping your life.” He joked to her quietly.

 

Ivy paused outside the Arishok’s quarters just before the fifth bell, she had managed to be given leave from the priest earlier than normal and went straight to the Arishok’s office- only to be told that he returns to his quarters at the fourth bell every day, the ruckus she caused as she sprinted to the other side of the palace to his quarters would likely get her into trouble but hopefully they would report it to Iron Bull who would probably just laugh at her. She breathed deeply to calm her panting and raised a shaking hand up to knock on the door. It was silent for a few gut-wrenching moments and she wondered if he had left here too which would mean she would be late for her first day with him which would lead to her being punished or executed- the gruff voice telling her to enter managed to stay her panic attack for the time being as she carefully opened the door and stepped inside. The room was much the same as it was the first time she ran through it months ago, but this time she was able to take in the magnificence of it. Rich red fabric was draped form archways and dark wooden furniture placed strategically around the room, the breeze made the room pleasantly cool and an elvhen servant was quietly and quickly preparing the fireplace to be used at night. The air held a lingering scent of spices, sandalwood and something else she couldn’t quite place. Ivy walked through the room uncertainly and saw the Arishok sitting on a table and chair on his balcony and she approached quietly, bowing when she was a few paces away.

  
“Sit.” He commanded and gestured to a large chair opposite him, on the table before him were a pile of books, parchment and a quill and inkwell. She obeyed dutifully, hands running down the back of her thighs out of habit to smooth down her clothes as she sat in the wooden chair. He was reading a book, somewhat small in his hands but compared to Ivy’s the book would have been large, he held it up with one hand as he reclined on his chair, drinking from a polished stone goblet he did not move his attention from the book. “Translate the first book.” He said simply and Ivy looked nervously to the small pile of books beside her. She picked up the first book and opened it, it seemed to be a simple, large text book with characters that she already knew. Tentatively she picked up the quill and let the excess ink run off the tip, she had been using ink nibs for years to draw with and the skill was easily transferred so at least something of her old life was useful here. Carefully she wrote the translation of the first paragraph in English- or the King’s Tongue- on the parchment and for good measure she repeated it in Qunlat to get a handle on writing the vastly different characters. This continued in silence for near an hour before the Arishok commanded her to stop and took the first few pages of parchments from her. He looked them over silently, Ivy feeling small and nervous as she watched his dark eyes scan the pages, before placing them down on the table again.  
“Do you know what you are translating?” he asked as he looked over the horizon. Ivy forced herself not to squirm as she tried to remember the words she had written.  
  
“I believe it is the text of the Qun?” she answered uncertainly and was immensely relieved when he hummed in affirmation.  
  
“It is a child’s book, the message of the Qun is written simply for younger minds to comprehend.” He said flatly before turning his head to give her a level glare. “You have managed to translate half of it incorrectly.” He scolded and Ivy felt her face flush in embarrassment, her nerves reared up again and she habitually reached up to tuck her long curls behind her ear in abashment even though there were no stray hairs to tuck back. “Read what you have written in Common, take care on the Qunlat pronunciation.” He stared at her as she somewhat shakily picked up the parchment and translated the English – and apparently wrong – passage into Qunlat, her tongue working awkwardly over the foreign words as her mind raced to work over the retranslation. Ivy finished the passage and the Arishok reclined, his eyes closed as if he were taking a moment to soak in the information. “The verbal translation is correct.” He spoke slightly more softly, as if he were satisfied with the outcome of the exercise. “It is clear that you have trouble comprehending the subtleties of the characters you write, it is not, after all, as crude as Common.” He spoke with a sneer, obviously upset at even having to think about the King’s Tongue.  
  
“I apologise, Arishok.” She was unsure why she apologised, she felt that she had to for her failings, for having a different language. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed before standing up and wandering to the edge of the balcony.  
  
“Words are useless.” He scolded her. “If you are truly repentant, you will do better.” Ivy couldn’t have felt smaller at that moment, the enormity of the completely alien culture crashing into her all over again. “Take the books and study them, I expect progress tomorrow.” He turned his back to her and Ivy stood shakily and bowed, scooping up the book and parchment before striding out of the room, almost collapsing from anxiety as the door shut behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s the question you need an answer to.” He replied. “Because the Arishok does not act without purpose and claiming you could be seen as-” he struggled to choose a word, “-unsettling.”

Ivy managed to squeeze extra hours into her day to study the books she was given, having translated the first book and most of the second she was finding it easier to speak Qunlat but still struggled to write many of the characters. The Arishok was correct in that she was learning quicker than with the priests and converts, whether it was because the converts were distracting and the priests off putting or simply his method was easier or even the fear of disappointing the Arishok spurred Ivy on to sleeping less and studying more.

This routine continued on for months, fitting a few hours of time with the Arishok almost daily aside from when he left to patrol the island and Ivy was exhausted. Battered and bruised from combat training and mentally drained from the study and painful clairvoyance sessions. There had been a particularly bad day five months after washing up on the shore of Par Vollen – Ivy had her arm broken during the morning training and had been sent to the healer who had bound her arm to her chest and given her an elfroot tonic to hasten the healing process, she was then ushered on to continue her training with the priest who insisted on finding out if the external pain of her arm assisted in the ferocity of her visions. Turned out the priest was correct in his assumptions, and as Ivy lunged at him- her completely unjustified and vulgar reaction to the priest wrenching her broken arm at an impossible angle- her useful elbow arcing up to hit him forcefully in the face to shatter his nose she realised that she had learned a lot from the training here and that she should use it, probably to get the hell out of dodge.

The moment was just that, a moment, and soon she was dragged off back to the still familiar cell of the dungeon where she was left for days until Iron Bull returned from his latest patrol to look down at her in disappointment. Ivy looked up at him through her scraggly auburn hair from the far side of the cell, her arm was messily bound to her chest, the bandage had come loose as the priest yanked on it and she had struggled to tie it back up one handed. Her face was bruised from the Qunari’s retaliation and her clothes had old dried blood on it, she looked like a homeless child caught in a trap. Iron Bull watched her from the other side of the bars, his arms crossed over his chest as he glowered at her, most likely absorbing every detail he could see. The narrowed pair of eyes irked Ivy and she met them with a level glare of her own.  
  
“Still have both your eyes I see.” She said to him flatly and he sighed.  
  
“I was gone three days.” He scolded her. “And upon my return what do I find? My charge has taken it upon herself to metre out justice, disfiguring a _priest_ in the process.”  
  
“The jackass deserved it.” She said indignantly and Iron Bull shook his head, scrubbing his face with the palms of his hands which was probably the most _human_ gesture she’d seen him do.  
  
“And you get to decide what he deserves? You are not in a position to rise above your station.”  
  
“I have no station.” She bit back. “I am not Viddithari, any grievances I may have would be left unheard. There is no justice in your system for me, I must merely play your games to survive and you know what?” she lunged at the bars and grabbed them with her free hand roughly, shaking and angry as her freckled nose scrunched up in distaste. “I’m _god damn sick of it_. Why should I allow anyone to harm me in such a way? Why should I submit to being an experiment? I’ve already fucking died once, I’ll be damned if I stand idly by anymore.” She snarled before breaking away and pacing in her three step wide cell, Iron Bull was silent as she tried to rake her hands through her hair only to have her fingers tangle in the knots and become frustrated all over again. “I was willing to go along with this,” she muttered as she paced, “I was willing to try and find a new life here, but god fucking dammit I _refuse_ to be treated like I am nothing.” She huffed and slumped against the wall, the stone scraping her back as she slid down.  
  
“I will speak to the Arishok.” Iron Bull said quietly, his face blank as Ivy let pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, exhausted from her outburst and lack of food for days. “Perhaps I can convince him to spare your life, give you some lesser punishment. You will need to remain here for longer.” Ivy rolled her head to look at Iron Bull and huffed a short laugh.  
  
“Just like being on vacation.” She muttered before he gave her a curious look and left.

When she was dragged before the Arishok in his office Iron Bull was already reclining against the wall as if that space belonged to him alone. It had been two days since he had returned to scold her and although she had become weak from lack of food she stood with her shoulders back and on her own two feet. The Arishok put down his quill and reclined to gaze at her for an uncomfortably long time before he flicked his large hand and the Sten who accompanied her left the room, leaving the three of them in silence.  
  
“The priest is recovering well.” The Arishok spoke, his hand hiding his mouth somewhat. “I am pleasantly surprised at the amount of damage you caused him in one strike.” Ivy blinked at the word _pleasantly_ leaving the Arishok’s mouth, she had never heard anything positive from him before and she was sure it was a lead-in for something extremely negative. “It has taken a long time for you to show any signs of self-preservation or resistance, I was beginning to doubt you had any within you.” Ivy glanced between the Arishok and Iron Bull somewhat confused, they had not yet punished her and she was painfully waiting for the consequence to her actions, Iron Bull just raised his eyebrow at her in an unreadable, sly expression. “While I am satisfied in your newfound desire of survival you lashed out against your better and you must make amends for it. How will you do so?” the Arishok sat patiently waiting for her answer and his words from their first lesson together rang through her head.  
  
“Through my actions, Arishok.” Ivy said quietly, hoping that this was the right thing to say to get her out of the dungeons alive. “I will do better.” He regarded her for a moment and then nodded once, signalling Iron Bull to step away from the wall and walk to stand next to her.  
  
“Your lessons will resume once you are bathed and fed.” He said before picking up some parchment to read. Iron Bull gripped her shoulder and guided her out of the room.

 

The bath house was somewhat crowded when Iron Bull pushed her through the doorway. Men and Women of all races lounged and went about their usual bathing routines completely uncaring of the two newcomers. Ivy had always managed to avoid people in the bath house, not completely comfortable with the whole communal bathing aspect of this culture, and so she couldn’t hide her discomfort from Iron Bull, let alone anyone else who glanced her way.

Iron Bull waved over two Viddithari servants and spoke to them softly, Ivy managed to catch the words _clothes_ and _oil_ but not much else. She kept still in the spot that he had left her, hoping not to be noticed by anyone, until Iron Bull returned and shook his head at her.  
  
“Do I need to explain what can be found under robes and armour?” he teased her obvious discomfort and she flushed in embarrassment.  
  
“ _Of course not._ ” She whispered to him with a scowl and he couldn’t hold back his mischievous smile.  
  
“Then relax, there is no reason for nudity to bother you.” He half scolded her and reached gently for her bandage, unwinding the mess carefully and leaving the wooden splints in place.  
  
“It doesn’t _bother_ me.” She protested and knew she was sounding churlish. “It’s just that- I guess- people bathe in private where I’m from.” Iron Bull gently lifted her filthy tunic over her head and hummed at her words.  
  
“Well unfortunately you’re not in your country now, haven’t been for near six months, perhaps it’s time to accept Qun culture outside of your classes.” He handed her dirty clothes to a waiting servant who scurried away with them and proceeded to undress himself. Out of habit Ivy turned to give him privacy and he quietly laughed at her gesture. “Seer, you are going to get a shock once you are with the army.” He teased before handing off his own clothes and directing her to the large stone steps that descended into the amazingly warm water.

Iron Bull soaked blissfully while two servants tried to run oils and large combs through Ivy’s tangled and filthy excuse for hair, it took them quite some time and no small amount of cursing from their victim before the hair was tamed and water logged, shiny and clean from the attention. While one human servant worked to dry her hair carefully with a towel, so it would be manageable instead of an unruly mess of curls, Ivy sipped on some kind of tonic Iron Bull gave her, it was to either help heal or relax her or something of the kind.  
  
“Seer,” he called for her without opening his eyes or lifting his head from where it rested on the stone, she hummed in acknowledgement as she allowed herself to relax in the water. “When you were in the cell, you said ‘ _still have both your eyes I see’._ What did you mean by that?” Ivy took a moment to consider telling him, if it would be good or bad to do so, if it could change how things happen like going back in time, stepping on a bug and changing the course of all of history. Then she sighed and thought; _he’s going to find out one way or the other._  
  
“You lose an eye obviously. Come on, Hissrad. I thought you were clever.” She calmly teased and he sighed with a curse, she smiled and reached to pat his outstretched arm in comfort. “But you look really dashing with the eye patch.” She smiled and he laughed lazily, the warm water rippling from the movement as she watched in fascination. Relax, the tonic was helping her to relax, and maybe intoxicate her slightly.

She was dragged out by the two servants who began to dress her, Ivy blanched at the thought of being dressed by someone else and voiced her concerns at the women before being stopped by Iron Bull.  
  
“Just let them do their job.” He scolded her. “I doubt you know how to put it on properly anyway.” He was right, and Ivy tried to remember how they got her into the dark burgundy fabric but got confused after the first two steps. They wrapped the fabric around her ribs before diagonally lifting it across her chest to support her breasts and wrap across her back, pinning the fabric securely with a long wooden brooch-like clip. The skirt was simple, the fabric was merely wrapped around her hips and pinned, resting tightly on her hips and loosely just above her knees. While Ivy was happy for new clothes she was curious as to _why_ her new attire was so vastly different from her plain tunic and leggings, this new – almost tribal- outfit had her worried about the plans the Qunari had for her, she was unsure if she would be able to fight as effectively in it since the skirt would likely be constricting to drastic movements. She was also wondering why they deemed it acceptable to let her wander around without underwear, or shoes.

Ivy looked to Iron Bull curiously and disliked the pensive expression on his face, she caught his gaze and gestured to the clothes.  
  
“Not that I don’t appreciate the new wardrobe, but-” she submitted her arm to the servant who began to bandage it up again. “You look as concerned as I feel about it. Why can’t I dress in my old clothes?” Iron Bull shook his head once, not that he refused to answer her, more that he didn’t want others to overhear. She waited patiently as the bandage was tied off, the arm secured to her chest in a tight sling – which thankfully hid her cleavage – before following Iron Bull out of the bathing house and down the massive halls towards the Arishok’s Quarters.  
  
“It’s a sign of ownership.” Iron Bull said quietly once no one was near them, Ivy skipped ahead quickly to walk beside him and study his closed off expression.  
  
“Ownership? Like a slave?” she asked, the panic beginning to rear in her voice, Iron Bull stopped her with a hand on her arm and glanced about the hallway for eavesdroppers.  
  
“Yes and no.” He whispered. “You are known to everyone here as a Seer, steps have been taken to ensure that those rumours circulated well, I thought it suspicious that news of your abilities would spread so quickly but I know now that it was intentional.”  
  
“I don’t-” She began to speak but Iron Bull silenced her with a gesture.  
  
“The clothes you wear signify a status- one to match the priests but it sets you apart in both your role and your allegiance.” He fell silent as a human walked past carrying linen, smiling and chuckling as if Ivy had said something amusing until the human was gone. “The colour you wear is that of the Arishok, by wearing that you are stating that you are subservient to him. The nature of the clothing itself is that of Seers, right down to the bare feet. Once you grow more powerful in your abilities they’ll start painting your skin.” He added the last part as if it were not important.  
  
“So, what you’re saying-” Ivy spoke slowly and quietly, still unsure in her own mind. “-is that to anyone who looks at me, I am the _Arishok’s_ Seer?” Iron Bull solemnly nodded. “Why would he want to do that?” she asked in confusion and Iron Bull smiled.  
  
“That’s the question you need an answer to.” He replied. “Because the Arishok does not act without purpose and claiming you could be seen as-” he struggled to choose a word, “-unsettling.”  
  
“How?” she demanded to know. “I have been spending hours with him every day, it is clear that he has invested _something_ in training me.”  
  
“You’re not thinking politically.” Iron Bull scolded her. “Seers are rare. The ones who came before you were always interred with the priests, under the direction of the Ariqun. The Arishok commands the military and has little to no right to claim you as his.” Ivy let this information roll through her mind, she had thought that the Three Pillars of the Qun were bound by some kind of law, that they had to work together well without such political scandals like you would see back home or read about in medieval times. Everyone she had spoken to about the Qun claimed it worked so much better than the governments of the _Bas_ – those outside of the Qun – that everyone had their place and that they didn’t stray and it was because that such distractions didn’t taint them, didn’t lessen them, that the Qun was superior.  
  
“A power play?” Ivy asked eventually and Iron Bull shrugged.  
  
“If it is, be careful that you do not become too entangled in it.” He warned before ushering her to move again.

 

The Arishok was drinking out of his goblet and staring at the spectacular view of the city as dusk fell upon it. His long silver-white hair was tied back- something that Ivy rarely saw- and he seemed content somehow, even though his facial expression did not change from its usual frightening glower. His long horns that splintered into eight separate ones shone darkly in the fading light, the rings of gold and brass complimenting them well as they glinted with each movement of his head.

Ivy tore her gaze away and continued to translate the last of the second book, she had improved much- even if she said so herself- and silently mouthed the words she was trying to write, she persevered for a few minutes before needing to glance up at the Qunari again, curious and nervous at the thought of a power play between him and the Ariqun.  
  
“Ask your questions.” He spoke without looking at her and made Ivy jump nervously in her seat, almost dropping the quill in her hand. “A distracted mind is of no use,” he almost sighed, “ask and then continue with your study.” A million questions rushed through Ivy’s head, and she had to push aside the ones that he would likely be insulted by and weigh up what remained. She knew she wouldn’t have the chance to ask him questions often and didn’t want to ask arbitrary things. Questions about the Ariqun were likely to be a dangerous topic, and really she could ask Iron Bull and get better answers, she should try to get a better understanding of what was happening outside of Par Vollen, try to match the timeline to the events she knew of- the Blight and Kirkwall.  
  
“Has the Blight made it very far north?” she asked quietly. “Ostagar or Lothering in Ferelden?” The Arishok slowly turned to give her a measured stare, one that made her squirm uncomfortably.  
  
“Both has fallen.” He said flatly.  
  
“Oh.” She said with a hint of sadness, thinking about all those poor people who would have died. But the information gave her something to work with at least, since she still struggled to understand the way they numbered their days and years.  
  
“You must be quite skilled,” the Arishok said as he looked back to the view and drank again, “in order to enter my office without being noticed.” Ivy felt her stomach churn in nervousness, his voice had taken on a dangerous tone that she didn’t like. “The information on those towns only arrived yesterday, until then we did not know where this supposed blight originated.” He swirled the liquid before draining it and placing the goblet down. “So you must be very skilled, to leave your cell and steal into my office to gather that intel.” Ivy shook her head unsteadily, her eyes wide as he laid bare his suspicions. “No?” he asked her as he glared at her panicked form. “Then if you are not a thief and a spy, how did you know the Darkspawn were travelling north?”  
  
“I-” she stuttered, her mouth gone dry. “I just-” She closed her eyes and scolded herself for her stupidity, she shouldn’t have been so god damn specific. Her heart pounded as the Arishok stood gracefully, rounding the table to stand behind her and place his giant hands on her shoulders. Ivy felt small and frightened, as if she were a child facing off with an adult.  
  
“Seer,” he rumbled and his clawed fingers dug into her skin slightly, “tell me what you saw.” Ivy trembled at the closeness of his voice. A vision? He thinks she had a vision? She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm her panicking heart, she could work with this, she could let him think that she had a vision of it rather than his whole universe being a game she played once in an alternate reality. If she did this right, she could ensure her protection through her usefulness.  
  
“O-Ostagar fell,” she started shakily, trying to remember the key points and not get any wrong. “King Cailan is dead.”  
  
“Why did they lose the battle?” he asked, more gently this time. Doubt crawled up her spine, he would want to know the military aspects of any information she had and she was not sure she would be able to satisfy his curiosity each time. But at least this once-  
  
“Loghain,” she answered, “he quit the field.”  
  
“He betrayed his King.” He almost hummed in satisfaction. “Typical of _Bas_. Anything more?”  
  
“Just the skirmish at Lothering.” She said steadily and he let go of her shoulders, moving to stand beside her and grip her chin in two large fingers.  
  
“Should you have any more of these visions you will report to me.” He said with a slight smile, the first she had ever seen on him. “And no one else, do you understand?”  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” She said shakily and he let go of her chin to walk to the edge of the balcony.  
  
“You have done well, Seer.” He said and Ivy felt a hesitant pang of happiness at the compliment which was promptly stamped down by her nervousness. “You may go early, rest and recover from your injuries.” Ivy stood and bowed before scooping up her books and walking hurriedly away from the balcony, barely resisting the urge to run out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She reached carefully for her sword, eyes still scanning the fog, and drew it carefully with a hiss of metal, she held it in front of her, feet shifting as she moved with each sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, these nightly updates... I think I'm spoiling you all. And considering how close my other fics are to being finished I should really be concentrating on them! Either way, have an update and let me know what you think of the story so far. ^_^

Attitudes changed once people saw the clothing she wore. The Qunari and Viddithari who roamed the hallways no longer sneered or barely tolerated her presence, they watched and acted somewhat pleasantly towards her. The Humans, Elves and Dwarves were friendly to her, saying hello or nodding in her direction every now and then, the servants brought her more clothing and bedding for the upcoming winter and even the priests were less hostile towards her - although she felt their resentment oozing through the fake courtesy.

It had been long enough that she was almost convinced that she was really in Par Vollen- not dreaming or dead. The time passed achingly slow now, being far too aware that across the ocean there was a war while she read and trained and occasionally ran errands for the Arishok. She no longer trained with the priests on the mind-splitting visions, instead she meditated independently and focused on her fighting at the insistence of the Arishok where she took a liking to staff weapons but still used the sword and shield regularly. She was nowhere close to being as good as the other soldiers and especially far from being as talented as Iron Bull but if the need arose to defend herself, she felt confident that she would survive mostly intact.

It was nine months before she left the city. The Arishok was away on a patrol and left Iron Bull with the idea that Ivy should accompany him on a safe visit to the outer villages. Iron Bull was oddly delighted with the idea – not that he revealed that to the Arishok – and arranged for a trip to a fishing village a day’s ride away.  
  
“It will be safe.” He said to Ivy as he saw the doubt on her face, which was actually more to do with the fact that she had never ridden a horse before and she wasn’t too confident in getting into the saddle, let alone directing the giant animal. “The rebels haven’t made it that close to the city yet.”  
  
“The Tal’Vashoth?” Ivy asked and he nodded, happy she knew the word. She uncertainly slid her foot into the stirrup and hoisted herself up, settling in the saddle and getting comfortable in her armour. Iron Bull had provided her with a simple leather chestpiece to fit over her usual clothing and boots that stopped just under her knees, she felt odd to be in shoes again after months of going barefoot, on her back was a simple round shield and a sword hung from her belt. Her hair was swept back and tied up into a bun loosely, the unruly curls fighting for freedom against the leather tie, but it felt good to have her hair away from her neck for once.

Iron Bull gave her a quick summary of how to ride her horse before leading the group – two Sten accompanied them – at an infuriatingly slow pace. Ivy felt both guilty and frustrated, she knew the slow pace was because she was struggling to control her horse. The ride took them through the jungle on roads and Iron Bull delighted in pointing out the various places that were good for an ambush or trees that had the best wood to be fashioned into staves. The two Sten were silent for the entire ride, but in fairness they would have barely been able to get a word in with Iron Bull chatting away, Ivy mostly laughed at Iron Bull’s jokes and basked in the cool, fresh air away from the city dust and smell.

When they arrived at the village they stabled their horses at an Inn and Ivy accompanied the group to speak to the locals, they took their time and spoke quickly and jovially, enough that Ivy struggled to keep up with the Qunlat conversation. They mainly asked about resources, crime in the area and of course Tal’Vashoth, from what Ivy could gather the village was as peaceful as Iron Bull stressed it to be. When night fell they returned to the Inn to eat, the tavern was mostly empty aside from a few workers and soon the Sten informed Iron Bull that they were going to retire at the local garrison.  
  
“Bah.” Iron Bull complained. “Let them go.” He gestured to the bartender who wandered over with a heavy looking bottle and greeted him happily. The drink was poured into two tankards and Iron Bull placed one in front of Ivy purposefully. “When was the last time you had alcohol?” he asked somewhat cheekily.  
  
“Before I fell off the boat.” Ivy said as she picked up the tankard and gave him a smile.  
  
“Well, I don’t know about how you imbibe where you’re from, but here the first tankard goes down in one go.” He grinned at her and Ivy gave a sly smile back.  
  
“Then we should drink to something.” Ivy said lightly and he hummed in thought. “To you, Iron Bull.” She said as she raised the drink. “May you keep your eye for as long as possible.” He barked a laughed before raising his own drink.  
  
“To you, Seer. May you keep your head as long as possible.” Ivy laughed and shook her head before hitting his mug with hers and drinking the tankard dry. She near slammed the tankard onto the table as the thick honeyed alcohol burned down her throat, Iron bull had his lips to his drink and his eyebrow arched in a mixture of shock and impression. Ivy met his eyes then nodded towards his drink.  
  
“You’re behind, Hissrad.” She teased and he grinned widely before downing the liquid.

Back home Ivy wasn’t exactly a party animal, but she had been known to out-drink her friends, often being the last one awake watching horror movies or staying out at the nightclubs until they closed. She was happy to find that her tolerance was still somewhat intact after months of abstaining and got the feeling that Iron Bull was happy that she could keep up also.  
  
“Tell me about your home.” Iron Bull asked as he refilled her tankard again, his words were beginning to slur and he had a pleasant dreamy look on his face but his eyes were still sharp and focused. “What is it like?”  
  
“It… is very different.” Ivy said softly, unsure of what to say that would neither confuse nor alarm him. “But the heat is the same,” she said with a chuckle, “and the beaches are as nice as they are here.”  
  
“What was your role there?” he asked and leaned back to rest his head against the wall, subtly knocking his horns against the wood.  
  
“Role?” Ivy chuckled. “I had a _job_ , Hissrad.” She proper her head up with her hand and smiled at him. “Two, actually. I drew things and worked as a bartender.”  
  
“Why two? They are vastly different jobs.” He questioned.  
  
“Well it’s hard to make money from being an artist and so I worked other jobs to survive.” Ivy said and Iron Bull hummed, understanding the concept easily.  
  
“And your family?” he asked and Ivy’s smile melted, she didn’t want to think about that. About her parents or her brothers, what they must have gone through and were likely still enduring. She looked away from him and lifted the tankard, pausing before it reached her lips.  
  
“Another time, perhaps.” She softly said before finishing her drink.

They had rooms at the tavern even though the two Sten decided to bunk at the garrison, they probably wanted to get some rest after the long day of riding and Ivy said as much to Iron Bull who laughed and told her they likely weren’t even at the garrison but together at some secluded location. Ivy stumbled her way up the rough wooden steps as she giggled and imagined the two stern-faced Sten caught up in some kind of romance.  
  
“Hissrad,” Ivy turned on Iron Bull suddenly halfway up the stairs and he grumbled under his breath at having to halt on the steps below her, “I have a question.” She grinned as she spoke, her words slurring far more than before.  
  
“Then ask me in the room.” He grumbled and Ivy pouted before she was hoisted over his shoulder with a shriek that dissolved into giggling. Iron Bull playfully gave her behind a whack before striding up the stairs and unlocking the room upstairs. From what Ivy could tell from her upside-down view it was the only room upstairs and had five simple beds dotted along the walls, the fireplace had been lit previously and sent a firelight flickering across the wood floor. Small beams of light escaped through the gaps of the wooden planks from the well-lit tavern below and made the ground look as if it were cracking from energy. She was tipped back over his shoulder and placed on one of the beds before he strode away, checking under beds and in the small privy for intruders before double checking that the doors and windows were locked. Ivy wasn’t worried by this, she had seen him do it in his own quarters in the palace many times and knew it was to put his own mind at ease and of course to keep them safe, it was comforting to watch but still strange to her, she hadn’t checked under her bed since she was little – and that was for bogeymen.

He flopped on the bed beside her, bottle in hand and upended it into his mouth, taking a long drink and letting the bubbles float up to the bottom of the bottle like a water cooler, Ivy giggled at the image and settled comfortably beside him.  
  
“What was your question?” he asked through a cough and palmed off the bottle to Ivy, who sat up and took a long draw, he relaxed as he watched her, resting his hands underneath his head and letting his arms take up the width of the pillows and bed.  
  
“It might be a bit personal.” Ivy said as she cleared her throat to chase away the burn of alcohol, he raised his eyebrow and gave her a sly smile.  
  
“Why Seer,” he teased, “interested in Kossith anatomy are you?” Ivy laughed and felt her face flush from both the alcohol and his teasing.  
  
“Yes, actually.” She teased back and he laughed lazily, he gestured for her to continue with a sly smile. Ivy rolled onto her stomach and proper herself up on Iron Bull’s chest, chin in her hands she gave him a grin as she swung her legs in the air. “The horns,” she began and he burst out in laughter.  
  
“Of all the things you could have asked about,” he spoke through laughs, “you choose the horns.”  
  
“Hissrad, you may be giant and grey but you still have the essential anatomy of a human male.” She scolded him with a smile. “With the exception of-” she reached up a hand and tentatively touched the base of his horns where the flesh hardened and wrapped around them, it felt rough beneath her fingertips, like hardened leather. Iron Bull’s breath hitched and his hand flew to catch her wrist, stopping her hand from travelling further, his usually good humoured features glazed over with something darker. He used the grip on her arm to guide her, rolling her to lay on her back suddenly as he leaned on his side, the bulk of his chest looming over her as he leaned down and across to pin her wrist to the mattress. Her other arm pinned between their bodies she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart and the surprised skittering of her own, he leaned down to her, his breath hot against her neck as he let out a shuddering sigh.  
  
“Ivy,” he rasped her name in a warning, “do not touch a kossith’s horns without permission.” She nodded and felt the skin of her cheek brush against his, the heat emanating from his skin welcoming as he stilled beside her, his grip on her wrist lessened but his hand remained against her arm loosely and Ivy felt a blush burning strongly in her cheeks. “What did you want to know?” he struggled to speak, his lips hovering so close to the skin on her neck she felt the nerves tingle. Ivy swallowed hard, trying not to think about the last time she was this close to someone, so close she could smell the scent of spices and metal that lingered on his skin. She felt the familiar stirrings of arousal and tried to quash them – she felt that it would be taking advantage if he were intoxicated and didn’t want to make him feel at odds with their friendship- but they weren’t easily quashed. Iron bull inhaled deeply and exhaled with a growl and his skin felt warmer somehow, as if he were fevered.  
  
“Ah-” Ivy stuttered and bit her lit nervously, “-Just was going to ask how two Kossith slept in the same bed,” she breathed and she felt him chuckle, “if your horns get caught?” He pushed up and gave her a dazed smile before it melted away, he rolled to sit on the edge of the bed and scrubbed at his face.  
  
“We don’t sleep in the same bed.” He said flatly. “Too many pillows would be torn apart.” His joke lacked the usual humour as he leaned across the small space to roll heavily onto the nearby bed, landing on his back with a sigh. “Sleep sell, Seer.” He mumbled to Ivy who hadn’t dared move yet, instead she watched him as he stared at the ceiling.  
  
“Good night, Hissrad.”

 

The pounding in her head rivalled the hammer of the blacksmith who toiled in his workshop outside the window and Ivy instantly regretted her existence. Iron Bull was still snoring in his bed, most of his limbs dangling over the edge, looking content in his sleep. She didn’t want to wake him, especially if he was going to be as hungover as she was.

She guzzled water from a pitcher on the table before finding a large bowl of water and clean cloth on the adjacent bench, next to it were small bottles of oil that helped scent the skin and mask the stench of bodies in the heat. She never thought about going without deodorant before arriving here and she sure as hell missed it. Peeling herself out of her clothing she stripped and picked up the cloth, wiping her skin clean of the dirt and sweat from yesterday she hummed to herself quietly as the water refreshed her, the breeze from the window easing her hangover somewhat.  
  
“You’ve certainly become unabashed.” Iron Bull rumbled from his bed and Ivy gave him a quick look over her shoulder and gave him a tight smile. “Was only a few months ago you were acting like a nervous virgin in the bath house.” He laughed at his words before regretfully squinting against his own headache.  
  
“It was necessary.” Ivy sighed as she squeezed the cloth to let water trail down her back before hanging the cloth over the edge of the bench to let it dry. “The bath house is always full before I see the Arishok, I’d hate to experience his ire if I didn’t bathe after training with you.” Iron Bull hummed in agreement and Ivy felt his gaze on her skin, she picked up the long burgundy cloth and began to wrap it around her hips to form the skirt. “And regardless of how _unabashed_ I’ve become,” Ivy scolded him, “It is polite to avert your gaze.” She shot him a look over her shoulder and he grinned widely, nodding his head in apology and lying back down to stare at the ceiling until she had completely dressed.

They were ready to return to Par Vollen but Iron Bull wanted to check on one more merchant before they left.  
  
“He cooks the best fish,” Iron Bull praised as they rode towards the ocean side of the town, “He rolls them up and crumbs them and mmmm.” He grinned at Ivy in delight as they came to the edge of road, a small shack like shop stood aside from the main buildings and the Kossith inside called to Iron Bull happily in greeting. Ivy was introduced to him and he took her hand happily, bowing from the waist as he did so. Ivy automatically averted her gaze and bowed in return, she knew after quite a few mishaps not to look strangers in the eye if her hands were touching them, most of the time nothing happened and the visions remained as a tickle at the back of her mind but she still didn’t want to risk it. The Kossith were talking jovially and Ivy still struggled to keep up with their language, she knew when she was being spoken to that they were purposefully slowing down their words for her and she was thankful for it but in these moments, when their language flowed naturally and freely she barely understood half of what was said. Ivy looked at the wooden walls of the shack, fish were intricately carved into the woodgrain and she reached out to trace the curves and patterns, when her hand touched the surface the tell-tale pain spiked through her mind and she heard her own voice hitch followed by the halt of kossith conversation.

She felt her lips move in silent words as she whispered to herself describing what she saw, she found it helped ground her and allowed more focus on the quick and nauseating flashes of images but this was different, it wasn’t the quick succession of images that left her roiling but a still, constant fog. Her hand remained on the wood of the wall as she glanced around, thick swirling fog surrounded the street and she could barely see a few steps in front of her. She looked to where Iron Bull was a moment ago and could only see the swirl of fog, she couldn’t hear them or see movement at all.  
  
“Hissrad?” she said cautiously, hand still on the wood as she took a tentative step forward. She could hear her own voice, the crunch of the dirt and gravel beneath her boots… and something else. The skittering sound came from in front of her, behind her, turning to face the sound each time her nerves grew, heart pounding and breath becoming ragged as she desperately strained to listen, to calm her breathing and slow the rush of blood in her ears. The sound came from her right, closer this time, and her skin crawled from it. She reached carefully for her sword, eyes still scanning the fog, and drew it carefully with a hiss of metal, she held it in front of her, feet shifting as she moved with each sound. A growl emanated from the fog, animalistic and deep and she gasped, a shape moved in the fog before her, a kossith, tall and armed with horns curling down and away, it sprinted forward, bursting through the fog with a snarl mere inches from her face, the kossith snapped and lunged at her, the white paints of his vitaar stark against his dark skin. Ivy jumped back automatically, her back hitting the wood hard as she gripped the sword with two hands and swung at the giant man as he reached for her.

The kossith disappeared in a swirl of fog and she breathed heavily as the thick mist dissipated quickly, leaving her against the wood of the wall, sword in hand and trembling. Her name was being called gently and warily, a soft coaxing voice trying to gather her attention. She shakily blinked and looked towards the voice, Iron Bull had his hands up prepared for if he had to intervene quickly, a concerned expression playing across his face.  
  
“The sword, Ivy.” He cajoled her and she looked to it, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt tightly, the metal trembling along with her body. Carefully she lowered it and Iron Bull moved swiftly, one hand on her wrist to control the sword’s descent and the other at the small of her back, drawing her closer to him subtly.  
  
“Hissrad-” she began and he hushed her, taking the sword from her grip entirely and passing it to the Sten who took it without question.

Iron Bull led her to the horses and demanded that she drink water, she was still shaking, stumbling as she walked the few paces to the horses.  
  
“What did you see?” he asked in a whisper, taking a moment to sheathe her sword into the scabbard that hung from her belt. She gasped from the water and swayed on the spot, prompting Iron Bull to pull her closer to steady her.  
  
“Fog.” She whispered back and his face became hard. “But it was different, not a picture this time. I was _in_ it. You were gone and I couldn’t see anything but I could feel the cold air and taste the mist, I could hear something moving around but couldn’t see it-” Iron Bull hushed her and ran his hand over her hair before she became hysterical.  
  
“It’s alright,” he comforted her, “I can guess the rest.” She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her forehead fall to rest against Iron Bull’s chest.  
  
“I feel like I just ran a marathon.” She muttered.  
  
“A what? No matter.” He signalled the Sten to join them. “You are unwell, you’ll ride with me.”

As the jungle scenery passed slowly Ivy felt her eyelids grow heavy, in the circle of Iron Bull’s arms she let the rhythmic movement and sounds of the horse lull her to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He growled and his lips brushed against her skin, setting it ablaze and causing her to gasp as she began to react to the intimacy, despite the fact that she was angry with him moments ago.

The crickets outside sang loudly as she awoke. The last thing she had remembered was riding through the jungle with Iron Bull at noon but now it was dark outside. The candles on her small table were lit and flickering in the still air sending shadows dancing against the stone and casting a large shadow of the Arishok into the corner of the room.

She sat up once she registered that he was sitting in her chair, reading the translation she had worked on recently with a blank face, she kicked the blanket off and stood up unsteadily, bowing to him as he watched her actions passively.  
  
“Arishok,” she said breathily as her heart pounded nervously, “I apologise for missing my lesson.” He hummed in acknowledgement.  
  
“If you are to apologise for that you should know that you have been unconscious for two days.” He said flatly. “So you have been absent for _two_ lessons.” Ivy sunk to her knees, her head still bowed as her hands trembled. Two days? She was asleep for that long? A silence stretched between them and she knew the Arishok was staring at her, analysing her posture and the way her hands shook. He leaned forward and lifted her chin with his large hand, she averted her gaze to stare at his mouth as it curled up in a smirk.  
  
“I will make amends.” She spoke quietly and his smirk grew a fraction.  
  
“You already have, Seer.” He said sounding pleased which didn’t work to smooth Ivy’s nerves. “The Ben-Hassrath told me of your vision at the village. You are progressing well.” His fingers traced along her jawline as he spoke to her and she fought to suppress the pleasing shiver that followed it. “According to our knowledge of past seers; they would barely be able to see a single message, like staring at a confounding painting. Never before have our seers walked amongst their own visions, in this you have exceeded my expectations.” He picked up a polished black circlet from the table, tied to it were three feathers, painted and beaded. He picked up her arm and slipped the circlet on like a bangle, pushing it up over her elbow to rest just above it, the circlet stayed put when he released her, the feathers hanging gracefully to tickle at her skin. “You will accompany me on all patrols from today onwards.” He reclined in the chair and Ivy met his look with surprise. “Continue your training with the Ben-Hassrath, but know that my men will give their lives to protect you.” He leaned forward to cup her cheek and she quickly looked to his shoulder. “Take no risks, Seer, even in your visions. You came far too close to death.” He stood and walked past her, the fabric of his long robe-like cloak grazing her as he left.

 

As she wandered into the training yard Iron Bull gave her a grin and spread his arms wide in welcome, she couldn’t help but smile at his jovial attitude even as he was covered in sweat and streaks of dirt.  
  
“You’re alive!” he cheered as she rounded the doorway of the storage shed that held the training weapons, his hands reached up to cup her elbows as hers gripped his forearms but his smile faltered as his fingers brushed the feathers of her circlet. “I see the Arishok is not upset with you.” He said, a smaller smile returning to his face.  
  
“He was in my quarters when I awoke,” Ivy said casually, “I thought he was there to scold me for forgetting our lesson.” He chuckled at that and pulled her in for a quick hug, his arm wrapping around the back of her neck as she was cradled against his chest. His scent hit her hard and she was thrown back into the tavern in the village, the memory of him above her sparking another pang of excitement in her and she pulled away, hiding her cheeks that were flushed. She gave him a sideways smile and he watched her wander over to the weapons, she tested the weight of a sword before he stepped forward.  
  
“Put that away,” he spoke cheerfully and she looked at him curiously, “We’re not training today.” He ushered her out of the training yard and through the beautiful gardens of the palace, she had only been there a couple of times and even in the middle of winter the flowers were still blooming, she paused a moment to appreciate it before her wrist was seized by Iron Bull and she was dragged along to their destination.  

It was a smaller outcrop of buildings towards the western walls that were decorated with colourful silks that Iron Bull dragged her along to. As they approached he relinquished her wrist and pushed her through the archway and into the large courtyard. Her mouth gaped open at the fountains and gardens hidden behind the outer walls, dotted around were men and women who seemed to be waiting while others attended on them, the servants were dressed beautifully, hair swept up and delicate chains hanging from their garments as they laughed and obviously flirted with the patrons who waited. Iron Bull greeted an elvhen man with a clap on his back, the man grinned up at him and gave him a pout.  
  
“Hissrad,” he purred to Iron Bull, “you have been gone for so long, everyone misses you here.” Iron Bull grinned and stepped back to Ivy.  
  
“It has been a while,” Iron Bull admitted, “but I have been busy with this one.” He shoved Ivy forward somewhat delicately who bowed to the man, he picked up her hand in response and kissed it, looking up to her. As Ivy avoided his eyes the elf grinned to Iron Bull.  
  
“She is shy.” He teased and Iron Bull laughed.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve been working on that.” He said suggestively and the elf tittered. “But there is good reason behind her action – no eye contact is allowed.”  
  
“Oh.” The elf smiled to cover his surprise. “Well we can work with that.” He ushered her down a hallway and turned her into a lounge like area, pushing her to sit on a velvet chaise – something she hadn’t seen even in the more luxurious part of the palace. Iron Bull leaned on the back of the chaise as Ivy looked around nervously, the elf left the room via side door and Iron Bull hummed behind her.  
  
“I love this part.” He said and Ivy had a moment to wonder what he was referring to when an array of scantily clad men and women walked through the door to casually sit and lounge on the furniture before her.  
  
“Seer,” the elf spoke as he swept back into the room, “these are the Tamassrans I have free at the moment, do any pique your interest?” Ivy blinked then glanced to Iron Bull, then scanned the faces of the half naked men and women smiling at her. She was confused, why on earth was this elf asking her about people as if they were- oh.

A human male stood and crossed the room, kneeling in front of her and smiling, his hand gripped hers and brushed it against his lips as he tried to meet her gaze, and when she averted it he took it as shyness and patted her hand comfortingly.  
  
“Allow me, Seer.” He purred at her, his wide smile making his brown eyes crinkle. Ivy gently pulled her hand from his grip and shook her head.  
  
“A woman then?” The elf asked, glancing at Iron Bull for confirmation who just shrugged. She stood and all the faces watched her with a passive smile, she bowed reflexively to the room.  
  
“Forgive me,” she spoke, her tongue somewhat tripping on the Qunlat, “but I believe there has been a misunderstanding.” She stepped away from the chaise and strode out of the room, leaving Iron Bull to deal with the group of people.

He caught up with her outside of the building, running to catch up with her angry stride.  
  
“Seer,” he called to her reaching for her shoulder, she dodged his hand and spun to face him. “Are you well?”  
  
“ _No._ ” she said to him and he stopped abruptly, lowering his hands to show her he was not a threat. “Apparently I’m not _well_ ,” she snapped at him, “Apparently I’ve got some kind of ailment that could be fixed by a good _fucking_.” She continued to walk and he followed her, attempting to placate her as she stormed through the gardens giving curious onlookers a good show.  
  
“I am sorry, Seer.” He spoke as she reached the palace walls. “I may have misjudged, but your behaviour has been peculiar of late, showing signs of-”  
  
“I swear Hissrad if you start analysing me with your god damned Ben-Hassrath bullshit I’m going to flip.” She spat at him and he smiled.  
  
“You know you speak common and use foreign slang when you’re angry?” he teased her and she stopped short, turning to him angrily.  
  
“Then let me tell you something that surely even _you_ can understand.” She growled at him. “ _I_ choose when and with whom I have sex. Not you. And _if_ I choose it won’t be at a damned brothel.”

Iron Bull’s face turned angry and he grabbed her arm, dragging her off to a concealed side garden that was empty. He pressed her against the wall and growled, glaring at her as she glared up at him in return.  
  
“I will forgive that insult since you don’t know any better.” He said with a dangerous growl. “Those men and women are not prostitutes, they don’t exchange sex for money, they do it as their duty to the Qun. They are healers in their own right, ensuring that the people are taken care of.”  
  
“Let go of me, Hissrad.” She growled in return.  
  
“ _No._ ” he spoke, getting closer to whisper as movement passed by the entrance of the garden. “Qunari aren’t like humans,” he stressed, “they do not have intercourse as an _expression_ of love or attraction, it is against the Qun to do so. People who are caught doing so are sent to the Ben-Hassrath for re-education.” Ivy’s eyes widened at that, the Qun controlled their sex?  
  
“That’s insane.” She whispered back and then had a thought. “What about people who want children?”  
  
“They are assigned a partner to breed with and then their duty is done.” He said flatly and Ivy felt the colour drain from her face. “So do not be angry with me.” He said in frustration. “If you are in need it is best that it is attended to, you distract everyone around you by suppressing this.” His hands moved from their bruising grip and were planted on the stone by Ivy’s head.  
  
“What are you talking about?” She hissed and he gave a deep sigh.  
  
“I can smell it on your skin.” he rasped and a hand came to rest on the side of her neck, his long fingers working to tilt her head away as he leaned down and inhaled her scent. “I was blindsided by it at the tavern, put it down to the alcohol, but I could smell it again today.” He growled and his lips brushed against her skin, setting it ablaze and causing her to gasp as she began to react to the intimacy, despite the fact that she was angry with him moments ago. “It’s intoxicating.” He gasped and reluctantly pulled away, stepping back twice to shake off his daze. “You should go back to the Tamassrans.” Ivy stood straight and smoothed out her clothes, looking at Iron Bull defiantly.  
  
“I’m sure you are aware, Hissrad, that others are not necessarily needed for this problem.” She said flatly and he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“Oh, I am aware,” he drawled with a grin, “but how long will that tide you over?” he asked before striding out of the courtyard, leaving Ivy feeling extremely self-conscious about how she smelled.

 

The next few days were awkward, Ivy tried her best to avoid Iron Bull and for the most part she succeeded. The next time she saw him was when the Arishok summoned her to a room just off the dungeon. The Sten allowed her to enter and she saw Iron Bull talking in hushed words to a tall woman who was staring at her, the Arishok and Ariqun stood on the opposite side of the room watching her cautious approach and Ivy could swear the Ariqun sneered at her. In the middle of the room a man was bound, his head slumped as he hung from a chain, his wrists manacled high above him as he knelt exhausted on the floor. The Kossith paused as they watched her approach and bow to them all, trying not to stare at the man in chains.  
  
“Seer.” The Arishok rumbled and raised his hands in a gesture to approach him, she did so, careful of where she stepped in her bare feet. “We have need of your abilities.”  
  
“This is a waste of time.” The Ariqun said and glared at Ivy. “We should sweep the area immediately.” The Arishok glared at her and she glared back but remained silent. His hand rested on Ivy's shoulder and he walked her to the chained man.  
  
“This priest has been supplying the Tal’Vashoth. I want to know their location.” The Arishok said as if it were simple. “Do not disappoint me.”

She looked at the Kossith kneeling before her, his bronzed skin was welted as if he had been whipped repeatedly and blood dripped thickly from his face that was hidden from her view. She breathed deeply to calm her nerves and regretted it once the smell of old death and dust stuck to the back of her throat. Tentatively she knelt before the prisoner and reached for his head, hefting the weight and supporting his jaw, he looked at her – a bleary gaze without recognition and tried to shake his head.  
  
“Don’t,” he rasped and licked his lips before trying again, “Don’t do this.” A pang of guilt pierced Ivy’s heart and her hands trembled slightly. _I’m sorry_ she thought before meeting his gaze.

A rush of jungle and plains passed her nauseatingly fast until it stopped and she was kneeling in a field, the skin of the prisoner still hot and tactile on the palms of her hands. She looked around but didn’t move, didn’t want to break the skin contact lest she lose the vision before getting the information she needed. The sun was beginning the set behind a small group of hills and at the base stood a rundown shack. A ghostly vision of the prisoner rode past on a horse and stopped at the shack, pulling off a large sack and leaving it in the building before riding away again. She glanced around and tried to memorize the layout of the land, the sun setting behind the hills, jungle far to the left, fields to the right, the shack with a jagged hole in the wall and an unhinged door.  
  
“Charcoal.” She said as she gazed about the landscape, hoping that she was speaking outside of her vision and they would hear her request. “And paper, please.” She felt the edges of her vision begin to blur, a sign that it was about to collapse- or she was. She pulled her hands away from the feeling of invisible flesh and clutched them to her chest, doubling over in nausea and dizziness as the vision dissipated and she was left kneeling before the prisoner in the room.

Paper was slid into her view and a large hand- Iron Bull’s- grabbed her own to grip the charcoal. She began straight away, sketching the landscape before it faded from her immediate memory, the hills with the sun setting, the jungle edge and plains with the shack with a jagged hole in the wall and an unhinged door. A drop of red splattered on the page and she automatically wiped at her nose, smearing the offending blood across the back of her hand before trying to get most of it off of the page.  
  
“In the shack.” She gasped and held up the paper for the Arishok to pluck out of her hand. “The sun was setting behind the hills and he rode to the shack.” She looked up to see a smirk on the Arishok’s face.  
  
“Well done, Seer.” He rumbled. “You have saved us much time. Ben-Hassrath, take her to rest.” Ivy heard footsteps and felt herself being scooped up and cradled against a broad chest. Iron Bull carried her to her quarters where he placed her gently on the bed, tucking the blanket around her before getting comfortable on the chair.  
  
“Sleep, Ivy.” He said softly as she whined against a headache. “I will remain until you wake.”

Rough fingertips stirred her awake as they traced the circlet on her arm, running along the edge and lightly tapping at the metal. She stirred to see Iron Bull staring at it, leaning forward in the chair with his hand covering his mouth, brow contorted into a deep, pensive frown.  
  
“Did you know that the Qunari do not believe in luxuries or amassing personal belongings?” he asked softly without breaking his stare, somehow knowing that she was awake.  
  
“When one covets belongings, when they take more that is needed, it hurts the whole.” Ivy rolled onto her side to face him, he was still frowning, fingers tracing the feathers.  
  
“You’re worried.” Ivy said quietly and he hummed in response.  
  
“The Three Pillars must embody the Qun, they cannot be seen to be anything less and they are fanatic in following the text of the Qun. This claim the Arishok has made on you is dangerous, if anyone intended to do him harm…” he trailed off and shook his head, reclining back. “Just remember to watch your back, Seer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't remember if Tamassran was the right word... anyone know? Help?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one tonight :3

On the eleventh month the palace went into a frenzy, Sten were running everywhere, searching rooms and people, Ivy stood outside her quarters in the hallway when Iron Bull jogged up to her.  
  
“What is happening?” she asked him as a Sten approached her quarters, Iron Bull gave him a nod and the Sten strode into her room, searching through her few belongings quickly before moving onto the next room.  
  
“Something of great value has been stolen.” Iron Bull said quietly. “You must come with me.”

Iron Bull took her to a wing of the palace that was well guarded, the Sten were much more pensive than usual, likely upset that they failed in their duty to guard whatever went missing. Ivy followed him into a large, long library that was empty of people except for the Arishok, Ariqun and Arigena; all of whom were varying levels of angry. The Arishok paced, his rage like a storm around him as the women glared at Ivy’s approach. She bowed nervously to them and the Arishok strode to her, gripping her wrist painfully as he dragged her to an empty pedestal and put her hand on it roughly, the cold stone tingling her palm.  
  
“What do you see?” he demanded and released her wrist, she took a breath and put her other hand flat on the surface as well and closed her eyes. She tried to stay as calm as possible but she felt the fluttering of panic in her stomach, she hadn’t _summoned_ a vision before, she could sometimes feel the stirrings of one at the back of her mind and try to coax it out, like long fingers of smoke trying to move a boulder but she rarely could. It was the same now, the vision burned heavy and hot at the edges of her mind, like trying to trying to see something out of the corner of your eye but it moves away.  
  
“Your pet is unable to control her ability.” The Ariqun spoke with disdain and the Arishok growled in return.  
  
“Be silent.” The Arishok bit and Ivy felt his large hands rest on her shoulders, he was standing behind her. “Seer.” He urged her, barely restraining his anger.  
  
“There is something.” She whispered as she chased the feeling of the vision in her mind. “I need to-” she gasped as a pain danced through her mind and faded, she nearly coaxed the vision to her before it slipped away.  
  
“Do not fail me.” He warned and her stomach flipped nervously. She pushed her mind to slam into the vision, not what she wanted to do, she wanted to coax it out and roll it about her mind and examine it, not slam into it like a train. The pain was intense as the vision burned brightly in her mind and faded quickly, she gasped as the woman smiled to herself and picked up the book that rested on the pedestal, she looked familiar. _Isabela_.

Her hands jerked off the pedestal and she nearly fell back into the Arishok before she caught herself. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, and she nodded as she caught her breath.  
  
“A pirate,” she rasped, “took the book.” She knew pieces of the story after this but held the information back, if she was right, this would be her chance to leave Par Vollen.

 

The Arishok was preparing a fleet of ships to pursue Isabela and the relic she stole, they were to leave with the tide and he was confident that his ships would catch up to her before she reached the nearest foreign port. Ivy had packed her clothing into a knapsack and wandered down to the armoury, she was to arm herself and report to the docks as per the Arishok’s orders, once they apprehended the pirate she was to pull as much information from the woman’s mind as possible.  
  
“The Arishok is taking you with him?” Iron Bull asked from the doorway and Ivy turned to see him, she hummed and nodded in response and he walked over to her with a frown. “The Ariqun is livid.” He said and ran his hand over a shield absently. “She thinks he is taking you on this chase to spite her.”  
  
“Ridiculous.” Ivy said quietly.  
  
“Is it?” Iron Bull asked. “It is not necessary for him to take you, once they apprehend the pirate they could be brought back here for interrogation, there is no need to risk the safety of our only Seer.”  
  
“I get the feeling that Par Vollen without the Arishok would be just as dangerous for me.” Ivy said with a tight smile. “Like you said, harming me would be an easy way to affect him.”  
  
“I wouldn’t let them hurt you.” He said with a dismissive wave and Ivy chuckled. “I’m serious.” He said quietly before his hand came to cup her cheek, turning her to face him, he was close enough that she had to tilt her head up to watch his mouth as he smiled at her.  
  
“Hissrad-” she began before she was cut off with a kiss, his fevered hands pulling her closer and running down her back as she gasped against his lips, his tongue licking gently as she reached to rest her hands on his chest. He suppressed a moan in his throat as his hand raked into her hair, massaging at her scalp as he began to pull away, Ivy’s hands slid up to cup his jaw as she returned the kiss, his smile at her eagerness teasing her as he broke away and mouthed a trail down her neck, each touch and nip eliciting small whimpers from her.  
  
“Take a staff.” He rasped as they bumped into a bench, knocking over the arrows that were placed there and letting them skitter onto the floor. He pulled her to press against the line of his body as much as the height difference would allow and craned her head to the side, allowing better access to the long line of her neck so he could inhale the scent of her skin and revel in it. “You’re much more competent with it and I want you to come back in one piece.” He returned his lips to hers and groaned, taking a moment to scoop up her legs and sitting her on the bench, his body splaying her legs widely as he pulled her as close to him as possible. She gasped and moaned at his touches, the burn of his stubble and the roughness of his tongue as it danced over hers and she felt alive for the first time in a long time. The heated rush of their kissing slowed and Iron Bull sighed against her jaw before closing his eyes and bringing his forehead to bump hers gently, his thumbs tracing circles where they touched her skin.  
“I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Ivy felt her heart pang in rejection, she thought about what he said before, about the risk of being sent to the re-educators and nodded.  
  
“Don’t apologise,” she said, “I am to blame just as much.” He stepped back enough to let her slide off the bench, he leaned down and kissed her head, smiling tightly into her hair as he sighed.  
  
“You need to be at the docks,” he rumbled, “I am delaying you.”  
  


Ivy walked over the warm wood of the pier and marvelled at the galleon that would be the flagship of the small fleet. Sten were boarding the ship and getting it ready to leave, they were about to set sail and Ivy felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. She was leaving Par Vollen, she was _leaving_. She glanced back to Iron Bull who smiled and winked at her and she smiled sadly back, she was leaving, and she wasn’t going to see Iron Bull again for a long time, if she ever did see him again.  
  
“Don’t be upset, Seer.” Iron Bull smiled tightly at her. “You’ll be back in no time, we’ll see each other in a month.” He said cheerfully and she closed her eyes with a sigh.  
  
“No, Hissrad.” She said quietly. “It will be a long time.” He frowned and closed the distance between them so that no one would overhear.  
  
“Ivy,” he whispered, “tell me.”  
  
“I can’t.” she whispered back, her throat tight from knowing how much she will miss her friend, blinking back tears she straightened her shoulders and stepped back, giving him a reassuring smile. She took one last look at him and bowed in thanks which he returned with a nod of his head. “Until Haven, Iron Bull.” She said in goodbye before spinning on her heels and boarding the ship, the gangplank pulled away and she watched the pier slowly become further away into the horizon, Iron Bull sitting on the wood as he watched her leave Par Vollen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She saw him turn and yell to the Arishok to turn port side, waving his arms to show the need for a sharp turn when a deafening, sickening crash of wood on rocks sent most of the Sten, and Ivy, tumbling onto the deck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter!  
> If you want something to keep you occupied between chapters check out my other stories. :)

Ivy had been on two ships in her entire life, the first one she got swept overboard and she knew the one she was currently on was going to sink. She thought about the possibility of her existence being back luck as she sung to herself and sharpened a sword. She didn’t know what to do to help out on the ship, the sails and rigging a bit too complicated for her to pick up and the Sten would lament her attempt to help so she busied herself with maintaining the store of weapons on the ship, at least this way she wasn’t a burden and it helped pass the long days. The Arishok was pleased she found something to occupy her time and said so in passing, he seemed to be enjoying the chase across the ocean, revelling in the hunt and Ivy got to witness his command of soldiers for the first time and the respect the Sten had for their leader.

Ivy was below deck placing a sword back on a rack when the roll of thunder boomed above her. She made her way on deck and the strong wind whipped her hair around as she emerged, The Sten were rushing to lower the sail when the Arishok commanded them to leave it, he was going to use the wind to gain some distance. Ivy could see the worry in some of the Sten’s eyes but they did as ordered rushing past her to secure the on deck cargo. She stood by the Arishok at the helm, her stomach rolling with the waves and gripped onto a railing to steady herself.  
  
“Remain with me, Seer.” The Arishok bellowed over the increasing wind, the thunder deafening as the rain approached quickly.  
  
“Arishok,” Ivy said, scared knowing what the outcome of this storm could be, “we will sink.”  
  
“Have faith, Seer.” He gave her a wide grin, enjoying the excitement. “A storm shall not halt the Qun.”

The storm blew them far off course, but the Arishok was confident that it would have done the same to the ship they were pursuing. Ivy remained with the Arishok through the storm and she was soaked through, freezing and shivering, her muscles aching from the hours of fighting the rolling movement of the ship when a Sten shouted above the roar of a storm that land was approaching, she saw him turn and yell to the Arishok to turn port side, waving his arms to show the need for a sharp turn when a deafening, sickening crash of wood on rocks sent most of the Sten, and Ivy, tumbling onto the deck. The Arishok roared as he strained against the helm, fighting against the swell of the ocean and they could hear the crash of the ship behind them as they collided into another outcrop of rocks.  
  
“To the boats!” he roared and the Sten scurried to lower the lifeboats. The Arishok gripped Ivy and hauled her to her feet, steadying her as they rushed across the deck. He scooped her up and lowered her into one before ushering Sten in beside her and assisted in lowering the boat to the roaring black ocean. Rain pelted Ivy as the Sten took up the oars and fought the waves to get to shore, she looked back at the ship, now breaking in half from the relentless force of the waves- it was chaos. The second ship was evacuating when the third, smaller ship was pushed against it, bucking the ship and sending Sten overboard.  
  
“Oh my god.” She cried as she watched the Qunari fall over the edge into the rocks. Her ship had evacuated everyone and she saw the Arishok jump into the last boat, lowering into the water safely before dragging a Sten out of the crushing waves and into the relative safety of his boat. The darkness hid jagged rocks as they made their way into the calmer waters of the bay and they lost a couple of lifeboats, the Sten swimming for the shore or nearby lifeboats where they were hauled back to safety.

When the lifeboat finally hit the sand of the coast the Sten jumped out as did Ivy, the boats were littered along the coast and she rushed to help an injured Sten, his shoulder dislocated from being thrown into the rocks. As she was assisting a healer the Arishok’s boat reached the shore and he stood, helping another injured Sten out of the boat and to walk up the shore.   
  
“Are you injured?” he asked her as he carefully lowered the Sten to rest on the sand.  
  
“No, Arishok.” She said, as she noticed the Sten coughing up water, she left the healer to assist the first Sten while she manoeuvred the second onto his side so he could cough up the water. Once he had expelled as much as he could she rolled him into the recovery position she learned about in a first aid class back home, the healer glancing at her curiously before nodding in approval.  
  
“I will heed your words.” The Arishok said to her quietly. “I thought your warning was from fear, not knowledge.” Ivy didn’t know what to say to that and chose to remain silent instead.  
  
“ _Arishok_.” A Sten jogged up to report. “All ashore, eleven Sten lost to the ocean. Our scout reports of a ridge nearby we can take shelter in.” The Arishok nodded.  
  
“Ready the men to move, we will shelter.” He rumbled before moving to help the injured make their way to shelter.

Ivy leaned against a boulder and breathed a sigh of relief. The storm had finally passed and all the surviving Qunari were sheltering at the base of a small cliff that protected them from the still strong wind. She was still soaked through but warm from the climb to shelter and the small fire that the Sten had managed to start. The Arishok sat across from her in his armour and meditated, he had prompted her to do so as well but she couldn’t, even though she was exhausted her mind still raced from the adrenalin. She lay on the ground and rested her head on her hands, watching the calming flicker of the fire before her exhaustion finally won and she fell asleep.

 

The rumble of horses echoed through the ground as human soldiers arrived at the makeshift camp. The Arishok stood fierce and patient as the captain of the foreign soldiers dismounted and gave the Arishok a curt bow, his hand remaining on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Ivy stood just behind the Arishok and got a good view of the man as he talked, he was well armoured, enough to hide most of his features.  
  
“I am Captain Faust of the Kirkwall Garrison,” he introduced himself to the Arishok who stared him down without replying, “I have been sent on behalf of the Viscount of Kirkwall to offer you refuge in the city.” The Captain flicked his gaze to Ivy curiously, likely wondering why a human female was with the large group of Kossith men. “All four of your ships have sunk yes? We can help you return on your journey if you ensure your presence here remains peaceful.” Four? Four ships? Ivy blinked in confusion, their fleet only had three- the fourth must have been the pirate ship.  
  
“We accept.” The Arishok rumbled and the Captain bowed again, almost relieved.  
  
“Excellent,” the Captain smiled, “We have brought a supply of elfroot potions for your injured.” He gestured and another soldier handed a small crate to a nearby Sten who immediately distributed them to the injured. “We are two hours march from Kirkwall, we will guide you there. Uh- your name?” he asked.  
  
“Arishok.” Was the answer that made the colour drain from the Captain’s face, he bowed again, deeper than the previous.  
  
“It’s an honour, Arishok.” The Captain said before looking to Ivy. “My lady, might I offer you my horse for the march?” he asked and Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise, she shook her head before inching minutely closer to the Arishok who glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“No,” she said uncertainly, she felt like she shouldn’t be speaking to this man without permission. “I will walk.”  
  
“My lady, you are without shoes.” He frowned and protested.  
  
“She will walk.” The Arishok said firmly and the Captain gave up, nodding his head once before mounting his horse, the Sten were already forming up and mobilising the injured, ready for the march.

The walk was easy as they made their way along winding paths, Ivy could see the wrecks of the ships far out in the bay - fresh carcasses to join the many older bones of broken ships. The nice Captain had relinquished his horse for one of the more wounded Sten to ride and he smiled at Ivy as he took his helmet off, letting his wavy brown hair blow in the ocean breeze. He looked in his mid-thirties and had a couple of shallow scars on his cheek that puckered his skin as he smiled widely at her.  
  
“Allow me to introduce myself properly.” He said as he walked beside her along the narrow track. “I am Alik Faust, Free Marcher.”  
  
“Ivy Volkev.” She responded and gave him a sideways smile, she wanted to focus on avoiding the large rocks on the track because while her feet had toughened up from going without shoes for nearly a year, it still hurt when she accidentally stepped on a rock.  
  
“Did you lose much in the wreck?” he asked casually, as if it were a completely normal conversation.  
  
“Just good Sten.” She replied and he apologised for the loss.  
  
“I hope you will find Kirkwall to your liking.” He continued and it seemed to Ivy that he was trying to make polite conversation, something she hadn’t been a part of since meeting the Qunari who were always direct and didn’t waste time on such things. “The area set aside for your company is well secured, I am certain you will be able to live comfortably there until a ship arrives for you in a few months.” She smiled at him before she was called to the head of the company by the Arishok, she jogged up the line to slow just behind the Arishok who glanced to her unhappily.  
  
“Do not speak to him.” He ordered and she bowed her head.  
  
“Yes, Arishok.”

The smell of the city was… strong. The high walls around the city blocked the breeze and it felt like she was trapped in stone, the heat radiated off the walls and streets even though the weather was still cool. The Qunari marched through the streets under the stares of the citizens who voiced their concerns to each other openly and Ivy was thankful that most of the Qunari couldn’t speak the King’s Tongue each time someone swore about the ‘oxmen’. The compound was thankfully close to the docks and they arrived shortly after entering the city, passing through a smaller gate to arrive in the secluded area. It was large with varying levels, big enough for a small town to fit comfortably and according to the Captain had access to the sewers and clean running water.

Ivy didn’t expect the Viscount to be waiting in the compound on their arrival. The Arishok, however, seemed to be expecting it. They exchanged pleasantries – insofar as the Viscount was overly pleasant and the Arishok stared at him and only answered when necessary.   
  
“We are honoured to assist the Qunari Arishok,” the Viscount continued to schmooze, “we have stocked this area with tents, food and bedding and informed the local merchants that they must trade with you if you are so inclined. I will organise transport for you to return home as soon as possible.”   
  
“No.” The Arishok rumbled and the Viscount had a look of a worried frog. “We are here to satisfy a demand of the Qun and will remain until it is done.” The Arishok dismissed the Viscount and went to lead the Sten to erect the tents and check the supplies, the Viscount said a hasty farewell before leaving them to their new home for the foreseeable future. “This city,” the Arishok spoke quietly as they stood in the middle of the dusty compound, “it is disgusting.” Ivy stepped closer to him and nodded.  
  
“It is where we need to be, Arishok.” She said comfortingly although she doubted he needed her comfort. “We will find the relic here but it will take time.”  
  
“Then we will trust in the Qun to guide us in this _Bas_ city.” He said solemnly, watching over his soldiers as they found a purpose for the day.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hawke.” She said quietly and he looked at her in confusion.

Weeks passed and the walled area of the city they took refuge in became known as the _Qunari Compound_. It was somewhat peaceful for a while, Sten took it upon themselves to erect their tents along the edges of the compound and reclaim some wood to build a makeshift bathing area near the running water. Sand and salvaged rope were used to create a training circle and that is what really lifted the spirits of the Sten, they seemed to have an innate primal rage that they needed to express lest they become restless, if they could not find a purpose for the day they would throw themselves into the training – usually coming out with wounds.

It was in this that Ivy found a purpose; as she was not allowed to leave the compound or work with the Sten to help build the camp – the Arishok seemed convinced that she would somehow injure herself or get into trouble – so she helped the healers with patching up the Sten. She learned to sew flesh back together, how to make poultices and what herbs could heal or provide pain relief, what would kill and what would cure. She was surprised to see how well the Qunari healers kept the infirmary tent clean, how they boiled the various medical instruments to keep them sterile and reduced the risk of infection.  
  
“The Qunari are advanced compared to the Bas.” The healer told her once as she sewed up a gash on a Sten’s arm under the scrutiny of the healer. “Our cities have better sanitation and our sick recover quicker than that of other races.” She also learned how to hang and dry herbs for use in the medicines. The Sten would often go into the countryside and come back with bundles of herbs which she would sort and bundle, hanging them in the infirmary and her own tent when she ran out of space.

Her tent was next to the Arishok’s large one as it was in the area of the compound that was guarded the most effectively. It was as large as her room was in Par Vollen, the beige canvas held high with a simple wooden frame and ropes which allowed her to hang the bundles of herbs and flowers. A mass of furs and beddings on the stone ground served as her bed and since it seemed to be warm in Kirkwall more often than not she rarely had to cover herself at night. Every now and then the Sten would drop off empty jars and smaller crates so she could separate the useful components of the plants and store them properly, the half full jars littered the floor of her tent and it became a sort of storage area for the herbs, not that she was bothered by it – the healers seemed to be the only ones who would enter her tent in search of ingredients and they were polite enough to warn her before they entered.

They began to amass so much in the way of Spindleweed and Black Lotus that she suggested that they sell it to the local merchants. The Arishok agreed to this and sent Sten to trade however they returned with no success.  
  
“The Bas refused to trade with them.” The Arishok said to her as she studied a Qunlat translation. “Despite the promises of their leader. They are wary of us, we must find another way to gather the resources we need.”  
  
“Arishok, would you allow me to attempt the trade?” she asked and he gave her a level stare. “I believe the Kirkwall merchants would be more open to a human who can speak their language.” He thought about this for a moment, tapping his clawed fingernail against the makeshift desk.  
  
“No, Seer.” He said finally and Ivy felt herself deflate a little. “They are dangerous streets and I will not risk you.”  
  
“The Sten can accompany-” she began.  
  
“ _No._ ” he reiterated firmly and that was the end of the conversation.  
  


Her days were just as structured in Kirkwall as they were in Par Vollen. She awoke at first light to train with some Sten, her staff fighting was coming along well and it quickly became her preferred weapon, she loved the footwork and graceful movement of it however it probably didn’t look graceful to the observer. After training she would bathe and eat breakfast then assist the healers until the mid-afternoon, then it was sorting the plants and studying with the Arishok when he returned from his own duties. It was just the Qunari in the first weeks who came to the compound, but soon something strange began to happen, the citizens became less wary of them and started asking to speak to the Qunari at the gates. The Sten would turn them away but as more and more people asked to convert or meet with the Arishok it became clear that this may be the way to gain the resources and information they needed to pursue the relic.

Once the Arishok agreed to meet with people – only during the morning when his temperament would allow it- it became easier to live in the compound. Travelling merchants who were brave enough to enter the compound would usually find good trade and people would come and ask to convert – usually elves looking to escape the alienages and find a new life – and so a part of the compound was converted to allow the new Viddithari to live and train. The Arishok seemed both pleased and infuriated with the progress, he was happy he could spread the Qun to a new city but the more they became entrenched in Kirkwall the longer it took to find the relic and return to Par Vollen. He voiced his concerns to Ivy, something that he was doing more often the longer they stayed, and she tried her best to calm his nerves, making him tea and reassuring him as best she could.  
  
“It is good that you opened the gates, Arishok.” She said calmly one night after he had gotten angry at a noble who visited the compound. “We are waiting on someone who will be able to find the relic.” He looked to her from the entrance of the tent and walked over to take the tea she offered.  
  
“You have seen this?” he asked and she nodded, giving him a tight smile.  
  
“I don’t know _when_ , but I will know when I see them.” She said and he walked past, his knuckle grazing delicately along her cheek as he did.  
  
“Then you must be by my side when I give audience to the Bas.” He rumbled and Ivy bowed in acknowledgement.  
  


Most days people wanted to meet with the Arishok over one thing or another. Usually it was simple enough, merchants for trade or converts looking for his permission to reside in the compound but every now and then someone would ask to hire his Sten as mercenaries which was refused each time. What was worse was that the people- usually nobles- would get indignant that the Qunari would refuse them, something that they were clearly not used to. At one point someone even offered money for _her._ Ivy felt like going down the steps to these people and hitting them with her staff, almost to beat the arrogance out of them, but the annoyance she was feeling was nothing compared to the disgust the Qunari had for being here. On those days the Arishok would retire to his tent and read the text of the Qun, sometimes reciting it to Ivy as she studied or sitting by her and explaining how the text worked for the Qun society in life. She felt happy in these moments, which he could find it in himself to want to teach her, to take the time to share his passion for his culture and it was in those moments that she realised how much his attitude had changed. He was openly discussing politics and strategies with her, something that would have been impossible before now, and even beginning to ask for her opinions on various things. It was also the way he conducted himself when they were in private, the brush of his hand or the close proximity in which he stood and the rare moments when he smiled at her, nearly making her breath hitch and face flush.

It was infuriating, the steady, ordered rules on the Qun and often Ivy found herself tempted to wander into the city, to go to the tavern and get drunk, to flirt with some hapless man for fun. She wondered why she never got this restless in Par Vollen and then remembered that Iron Bull had spent a lot of time keeping her busy and entertained, her heart panged as she thought about him, she missed her friend. It was as she was sorting Embrium in her tent that she paused and her mind dragged up a memory of Iron Bull, staring off into the distance as she sighed unhappily, then she remembered the way his hands felt as he lifted her onto the bench in the armoury, his tongue gliding along hers as he pulled her closer and she felt herself blush.  
  
“Seer.” The Arishok said from the entrance of her tent and she jumped in surprise, dropping the Embrium and bowing to the Arishok as he walked in.  
  
“Arishok.” She greeted him, her voice breathy against her will.  
  
“Are you unwell?” he asked and strode forward to touch his hot palm against her forehead, checking her temperature. “You are flushed.”   
  
“I am well.” She said and he frowned at her, bringing his other hand to feel at the back of her neck, scooping her hair out of the way as he did. He paused and frowned at her again, his hand remaining at the back of her neck as he pulled the other back to read her expression, her gaze averted to watch his mouth as he leaned closer, slowly and warily he leaned forward, his hand finding its way to rest on her hip as he ducked his head to the crook of her neck and inhaled. Ivy felt her blush burn on her cheeks as the primal growl left his throat, his hands twitched minutely as he stiffly pulled himself away, eyes dark and glazed over.  
  
“You will remain here until morning.” He rasped as he forced himself to let her go and back out of the tent. “Do not walk among the Sten.”  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” Ivy said quietly in embarrassment. She felt him watch her closely from then on, as she crossed the compound or worked diligently on her tasks, she could feel his eyes on her and when she turned to check, sure enough, he would be looking at her.  
  


Eventually the day came when a rude dwarf name Javaris visited the Arishok flanked with mercenaries and asked the Arishok to trade the recipe for Gaatlock, an explosive powder that only the Qunari had access to and which was a heavily guarded secret. He had visited nearly a week beforehand and asked for the same thing which he was denied, but this time he claimed that his people had killed the Tal’Vashoth on the coast. The Arishok denied him yet again as they had never arranged such a deal and Ivy looked at the group in boredom, she remembered the rude dwarf from before but had never seen his mercenaries. She gazed at the group, a dwarf, blonde man covered in feathers, and a well armoured man with a streak of red paint across the bridge of his nose and her breath caught in her throat.

The Arishok scolded the dwarf for attempting to weasel out of his arrangement with the mercenaries and threatened to force him to uphold his end of the deal – which implied his death. Ivy stepped forward silently, eyes fixed on the group and her movement caught the attention of the Arishok as the dwarf stormed out of the compound swearing. She looked to him for permission to descend the stairs as the mercenaries watched her curiously, the Arishok gave her the barest nod and she carefully walked towards the group, the Sten becoming anxious as she approached the armed strangers. The blonde feathered mage was the closest to her and she approached him with a curious tilt to her head, the feathers he wore were black and ruffled in the slight breeze that swirled in the compound, she tentatively reached out to touch the feathers as he watched her but stopped short of the soft plume, she tried to remember what was important about him and struggled to recall it, something about the chantry. Whatever it was; it was not good and so she stepped around the back of him to approach the armoured man. He was bearded with black hair, his eyebrow arched in amusement as he glanced from her- or more particularly her cleavage- to his companions and she gently touched the warm sun-baked metal of his armour.  
  
“Hawke.” She said quietly and he looked at her in confusion.  
  
“Uh, have we met before?” he asked and she shook her head, her hand trailing over a pauldron. She couldn’t believe it, Hawke was here, he was real and he was here. Things were finally beginning to look up. She smiled for a moment before it faltered, the chantry. Anders destroys the chantry. The Qunari rage a war in the streets and the Arishok…

She pulled back abruptly and backed away, the Arishok had descended half the stairs slowly before she turned around and began climbing the stairs to him. His hand reached out and rested on her side, leaning down so she could speak to him quietly.  
  
“Its them.” She spoke, her voice almost trembling. “But they aren’t strong enough yet.” He hummed and nodded once, accepting her report. She wasn’t sure why she said it, it was an impulse, an attempt to delay the inevitable chaos and destruction that loomed.  
  
“You will leave now.” The Arishok told them and they were escorted from the compound.

They returned to the Arishok’s tent and Ivy tried to calm her trembling hands, at the desk the Arishok wrote down the details he could remember of Hawke and his companions.  
  
“A pity they were not ready.” The Arishok rumbled. “But I am glad we have new guidance in our duty.” He stood and walked to Ivy who was still restless and moving about the tent, stopping her in her tracks with his hands cupping her face. “If only we could gather more information from the Bas in this city. I would be at ease knowing we were doing all we could.”  
  
“Arishok,” Ivy rasped as her hand came up reflexively to touch at his arm, he did not scold her or push her away and she let it linger, “let me go among the Bas, I can get information from them better than anyone else.” He paused for a moment and sighed, the end of it turning into a small growl. Leaning in closer his thumb traced her cheekbone and he scented the air around her. His fingers trembled delicately as his muscles tensed along his shoulders and allowed his silver hair to slip down and hang freely, swaying as he shook his head gently.  
  
“I would not risk you.” He rumbled before brushing his lips against hers slowly in a kiss, her gasp swallowed by him as he pulled her body to press firm against him, the red war paint on his chest sticking to her clothing as his tongue slid through her parted lips to elicit a moan from her and a growl from him. She was surprised by his forwardness, despite the restrained touches that built to become uncharacteristically open in private, and while her mind questioned the logic behind this – since the Arishok did not act without purpose – her body and soul revelled in the feel of his rough skin along her neck, the careful scratch of his clawed fingers and the sharp nip of his teeth against her lip.

But in the Qun you could not seek out a lover. And although they were far from Par Vollen and they had no Tamassrans to satisfy their more _primal_ needs she was certain his character was far stronger willed than her own, strong enough to become a Pillar of the Qun, to resist temptation.   
  
“It is,” she whispered between the fevered kisses that were growing in urgency, “worth the risk. We cannot be idle here.” He hummed in conversation and tilted her head back to bare her throat, kissing along her jaw to bite softly against the flesh. She gasped at the feel of his teeth and felt a rush of heat roll through her, her excitement growing with each touch. The Arishok paused and let out a strangled groan, pulling away to blink hazily at where his teeth had just been.  
  
“Seer,” he rasped before letting her go and stepping away, the sudden absence of his warmth almost shocking to Ivy, “return to your tent, do not leave it until morning.” The sudden rejection stinging as she bowed to him and fled.

Ivy didn’t mind that he had sent her away, she understood what Iron Bull explained, that her scent could be distracting to Kossith, and she noticed the males- and even some females- subtly trying to scent her as she performed her duties or trained. She also understood that to be in a position of leadership the Arishok had to be seen to be above base desire and instinct. She was just annoyed that she had been sent to her quarters well before dusk and would have to spend the afternoon cooped up in the heat of her tent. She remembered the Sten who accompanied her and Iron Bull to the village, how she joked about their secret rendezvous, and felt guilty. In hindsight it was probably what they had to do to protect themselves, so they would not be separated and sent to the re-educators.

She sunk into her furs with a sigh, she was worked up and couldn’t stand the thought of sitting down to the meticulous task of sorting herbs. Her skin almost crawled from the brush of the fur, so soft compared to large, calloused hands. She huffed and buried her face in the blanket, resisting the urge to complain loudly. If he didn’t want her to become so worked up and become a distraction then he shouldn’t tease her! She felt angry for a moment then petty before letting her apathy take over, the desire to sleep for an hour or so hitting her suddenly even though she knew she would be scolded if they caught her asleep during the day.  
  
“Men are the same everywhere.” She muttered to herself before yawning deeply and closing her eyes.  
  


It was during the night that the Arishok entered her tent, Ivy looked up in surprise at his presence, not only had he never stepped foot into her tent before but he had been determined that she be alone until morning. She paused in her drawing, an eluvian mirror she had a dream about during her afternoon nap and bowed at him from where she sat on the floor. He looked curiously around her tent, frowning at the jars and crates on the floor and the bundles of lavender and elfroot that hung from the wooden frame of the tent before stepping in further and passing her an apple and fruit bread – her dinner for the night.

She thanked him and took the food, expecting him to leave after checking on her but he remained, folding his massive legs to sit beside her, leaning back on the furs since it was the only space that was not occupied by clutter.   
  
“There is a more efficient way to store these.” He said absently as he stared at the jars. “I will have the Sten construct shelving and a workbench.”   
  
“Thank you, Arishok. I did not want to burden the Sten.” She said quietly, putting aside her drawing which he picked up automatically and examined.  
  
“It is more of a burden if you injure yourself by falling over these things.” He drawled and she flushed in embarrassment as she tore off a piece of bread and chewed on it slowly.

They sat in silence for some time, the Arishok letting her eat her food in peace while he alternated between watching her curiously and meditating.   
  
“Should you leave the compound,” he spoke when Ivy thought he was meditating, “what would your aim be?” Ivy swallowed and thought about it for a moment, her aim? Trade? Figure out what was happening out there?   
  
"I would begin with setting up a trade with the local merchants.” She said.  
  
“Why?” he asked flatly.  
  
“Because by gaining the trust of the merchants they are more willing to speak to you about rumours and events, I cannot gather information through visions alone, I would likely be apprehended by Templars on suspicion of being a Mage.” She shifted to prop herself up with her arm, legs going numb from being in the same position. “If that fails there is always the less… respectable places to go.” The Arishok frowned at her momentarily, staring at her while apparently mulling over the possibility.  
  
“You would go with at least two Sten.” He said carefully and Ivy’s heart skipped a beat in excitement.  
  
“Yes, and I will be armed.” She agreed and he huffed, glowering at the jars that offended him with their clutter.   
  
“You will behave yourself and act respectfully within the Qun.” He gave his second demand and she nodded. “And should you find yourself in the midst of battle, you will do me proud and defeat the Bas that corrupt this city.” Ivy blinked at the final demand and bowed her head respectfully.  
  
“I will not fail you, Arishok.” She said.  
  
“No,” he replied, “you will not.”  
  


The Arishok took a moment to speak to the Sten who guarded the tents and returned to sit on her furs again. They waited patiently, Ivy drinking water from her waterskin as the Arishok watched the movement of her throat closely. The Sten returned with a bowl of dark paste that had a small, thin stick sitting in the thick goo.  
  
“If you are to represent the Qun outside these walls, you shall be marked to show your status.” The Arishok explained as he stirred the paste delicately before reaching for her hand, placing her palm on his huge thigh. “Since our war paint is poisonous to humans this dye must be used. It will mark your skin for a month, you will be responsible in maintaining this just as I am for maintaining my paint.”  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” She replied and he began to smear the paste on her fingers and hands in thin, neat lines, creating an intricate pattern along the top of her arm that stopped an inch below her elbow. The effect of the tribal pattern was amazing, delicate and strong together. The paste dried into hard lines, tightening her skin as she realised what is was. “We have this back home,” she said quietly as he began an identical pattern on her other hand, “we call it Henna.” She realised that this was the first thing she ever told the Arishok about Earth, she frowned to herself, she hadn’t thought of home for a long time. The Arishok did not respond, instead he concentrated on the pattern and once her finished her arms he repeated the pattern on the tops of her feet, painting the henna half way up the side of her calf. The action seemed to calm him and Ivy certainly enjoyed the feeling on her skin, enough that she wore a small smile as she watched him. The entire exercise took a couple of hours and the candle was burning low by the time the henna-like paste was dry, the Arishok picked up a cloth and in one stroke removed the dry, excess paste, leaving the dark tribal pattern to stand out against her skin. She admired the intricate lines and dots; almost identical on all her limbs.  
  
“ _There is no chaos in the world, only complexity.”_ The Arishok quoted the Qun before standing and leaving her alone in the tent.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Some parts of their culture could be seen as barbaric.” Ivy said, her voice somewhat quivering. “But no more so than forcing someone to undertake the Harrowing and cutting them down when they fail.”

Armed and with two Sten flanking her Ivy walked through the streets of Kirkwall for the first time since arriving. The brightly coloured stalls were flanked by gruff locals as they made their way through the markets asking merchants about what they would be willing to trade but most of them were only interested in coin since they imported their own wares and were heavily watched by both the nobles and the coterie.  
  
“None are willing.” One of her Sten grumbled in disgust as they wandered through to another area of the city.  
  
“We will not give up yet.” She said as she paused to look around the area they wandered into, a few merchants were set up in the courtyard and heavily armed guards were stationed throughout, overshadowed by statues of what looked like slaves in lament. As they entered the area the people who milled about stared at them, it was not an uncommon theme for the day since the large Qunari always drew stares but Ivy gathered quite a few of her own, her painted skin and odd dress drawing leers and whispers. They approached the stairs and Ivy read a plaque at the base, it was detailing the history of The Gallows, she hummed in realisation. They had found the Kirkwall Circle.

“You’re new.” A rough voice caught her attention and she turned to see an armoured man addressing her as he eyed her company suspiciously. “You a transfer?”  
  
“Seer?” A Sten pressed for a translation. The Sten who accompanied her had barely an understanding of Common and each time she spoke she had to translate for them before she could carry on with her conversation, she didn’t want to tell the Sten that their distrust was contagious, that the people of Kirkwall were likely wary of Ivy having to stop and speak to the Qunari in a language that they didn’t understand, but they were certainly impeding her goal.  
  
“He thinks I’m a mage.” She responded in Qunlat and the armoured man arched his eyebrow at the group suspiciously.  
  
“Then we should leave, such implications will only hinder us.” The Sten growled and the man became anxious, hand twitching by his sword which did not go unnoticed by the Sten who stared down the man threateningly.

Ivy bowed to the man, hands crossed on her chest, she had picked up the habit of crossing her hands there as a way to cover her cleavage – bowing in the wrap of fabric was hazardous and outside of the compound the men would leer at her. The man relaxed at her respectful bow however he seemed wary of the Sten still.  
  
“Apologies,” she spoke with a smile, “my friends do not understand the King’s Tongue. Might I ask your assistance?” her voice was light and calming and she could see the man visibly relax as she spoke.  
  
"No need to apologise.” He said with a gruff smile, his hand casually scratching at his beard. “How can I help?”  
  
“We seek to trade in this city, however the citizens are reluctant to deal with us.” She spoke and he nodded in acknowledgement. “Do you know of any merchants who would be more willing?” He hummed and looked about at the few stalls scattered in the courtyard.  
  
“You could trade here,” he said reluctantly, “These merchants are for the Circle and usually want different things to the markets but it can’t hurt to ask. You’ll need to get permission to trade here though.” He gestured to a man standing at the base of the stairs who seemed to be giving orders. “Speak to the Knight-Captain, he would be able to give permission.” Ivy bowed to the man in thanks and walked carefully over to the tall blonde man.

Before she reached him he turned in their direction, engrossed in some sort of paperwork the light caught in his blonde curls and Ivy stopped mid-step much to the ire of her Sten companions. She knew in theory and faded memories that he was here, but knowing it didn’t prepare her for coming face to face with Cullen Rutherford. With an annoyed urge from Sten she resumed her walk to him, he was both calming and intimidating in his Templar armour and Ivy had to try to figure out the swirls of emotion that dogged her. Not even Hawke had caught her by surprise this much. She reached him and bowed, waiting patiently until he looked up from the parchment that he held and took in the group with a curious look.  
  
“A new recruit?” he said with a slight accent, he almost sounded younger than he looked but his mannerisms showed the command and responsibility of his position. “You will need to speak with the Grand Enchanter, what with the refugees still streaming in we may not have room for you.” Ivy smiled and bowed to him, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to spread across her face.  
  
“No,” she said as her voice waivered treacherously, “I am not a mage.”  
  
“Then I apologise.” He said and bowed curtly in return. “I was confused by your- uh- appearance.” He seemed to struggle with settling on a word.  
  
“We seek to trade,” she said, “but I am told we must gain your permission?” he hummed and nodded.  
  
“Just a formality.” He said while glancing back at his parchment. “We try to limit the contraband coming into the Circle. What do you wish to trade?”  
  
“Herbs mainly,” she replied, “and salvaged items.”  
  
“And are you travelling through or a local?” he seemed to be writing down the information she was giving him.  
  
“We reside in the Qunari Compound.” She answered and he gave her a measured look, she met his eyes and stood with her shoulders back and showing confidence. She had every right to be here even if she were Qunari, she was disappointed in the other merchants for their distrust and was determined to show the Knight-Captain that she meant business.  
  
“I am surprised your Arishok allowed it.” he said with a disarming smile, not meaning to offend and Ivy felt the tense muscles of her back relax just from the smile he shot her way. “From the rumours I hear he is not friendly to outsiders.”  
  
“Everyone needs to eat.” She smiled in return, brushing her curls back behind her ears. “I would rather our people be productive and work towards returning home rather than starve, the Arishok sees it much the same way.” She convinced him and he nodded, scribbling on the paper before rolling it up and handing it to her.  
  
“Show this to the merchants each time you come to trade, the one in the corner to your right will likely buy any herbs you have available, as you can imagine we use quite a bit here.” She bowed to him again.  
  
“Thank you, Knight-Captain Rutherford.” She said and turned to leave before his voice stopped her.  
  
“Hey,” he said with confusion, “how did you know my name?” she smiled at him and he gave her a shy smirk in return.  
  
“Your soldier informed me, of course.” She lied to cover her slip up and he laughed.  
  
“Of course.” He replied before Ivy walked over to the merchant he recommended.

 

As the curious tribal woman left with the Qunari the Knight-Captain called over his officer.  
  
“Wallace,” he asked as the group disappeared from view, “did you give that woman my name?”  
  
“No sir.” Wallace replied.  
  
“Did you catch hers?” he asked out of curiosity.  
  
“No sir, apologies. I will be more diligent in the future.” Cullen waved his hand dismissively, he was not questioning the man’s abilities. “But I think I may know who she is, sir.”  
  
“Tell me.” Cullen said and Wallace began to tell him the rumours of the Arishok’s Seer.

 

The next day she returned to the Gallows with the Sten carrying crates of herbs, she managed to convince the merchant that he needed all of them and he somewhat happily handed over the small pouch of coin. Ivy didn’t doubt that she got underpaid for the herbs but hopefully soon she would be able to send a Sten to haggle with the merchant since she was appalling at it.  
  
“Good morning.” Ivy turned to see the Knight-Captain walking over to her, a half smile on his stubbled face as he greeted them.  
  
“Knight-Captain.” Ivy said with a bow and the Sten nodded at Cullen before looking disinterested while scanning the courtyard for potential threats.  
  
“How are you finding the merchants? Agreeable?” he asked, finding the topic suitable for small talk. Ivy smiled and nodded, bowing slightly to him and his smile grew.  
  
“We are thankful for your permission, Knight-Captain.” Ivy almost purred her words and realised she may have been flirting slightly. Cullen must have also realised it as he cleared his throat and looked away almost bashfully.  
  
“I didn’t properly introduce myself yesterday, Cullen Rutherford.” he said with a bow.  
  
“Ivy Volkev.” She replied and Cullen glanced between the small human woman and her large Sten friends as if he were trying to figure out the riddle of their relationship.  
  
“Are there many humans among the Qunari?” he asked casually.  
  
“Yes, the Qunari are quite diverse.” She replied, somewhat happy that he outright asked her instead of coming to his own conclusions.  
  
“But none quite like you.” He spoke quietly with a smirk and Ivy sighed. She knew the subject of her role would come up but didn’t think it would be so quickly, the gossip mill was definitely working overtime in Kirkwall.  
  
“Ask your question, Knight-Captain.” She said, glancing to the Sten who looked like they were growing impatient. “I do not have much time.”  
  
“Are you a mage?” he asked flatly, somewhat ready to spring onto action if she answered in the affirmative. Ivy frowned at him.  
  
“Can you not tell? I thought Templars could sense magic within people.”  
   
“Some can.” He admitted somewhat reluctantly. “But none here.”  
  
“No, I am not a mage.” She said and he seemed to visibly relax. “If I were I doubt we’d be talking, since my mouth would be sewn shut.” She said quietly, the way the Qunari handled their mages was not for the faint of heart. It made the Kirkwall Circle look like a kindergarten.  
  
“Yes I have heard of their practices.” He sounded disgusted. “Why anyone would willingly live among them is beyond my reasoning.” Something must have passed over Ivy’s face because his own softened, he stepped forward minutely just as Ivy stepped back, subconsciously seeking the safety of the Sten behind her and showing that _they_ had her support, not the people who criticised them without knowledge of their culture.  
  
“Some parts of their culture could be seen as barbaric.” Ivy said, her voice somewhat quivering. “But no more so than forcing someone to undertake the Harrowing and cutting them down when they fail.” The Knight-Captain narrowed his eyes at her and Ivy knew he had struck a nerve, she cursed herself and shook her head, swallowing heavily. “I have come to learn very quickly that there is good and bad in every culture. While the Qun can be daunting, their methods sometimes harsh, they do so to protect the whole. I dare say the same could be said for the Templars.”  
  
“It could.” Cullen said carefully, his gaze so measuring Ivy almost squirmed beneath it. “I apologize for my words, they were careless.”  
  
“No, I am sorry.” Ivy shook her head. “I shouldn’t let such things affect me, it’s just been… difficult in Kirkwall.” Cullen smiled at her softly and nodded his head.  
  
“This city takes some getting used to.” He agreed. “Should you need assistance I am willing to help in any way I can although I’m not sure what use I could be to someone with your gifts.”  
  
“You have already helped more than you know.” Ivy said with a smile. “Simply by being kind enough to allow us to trade here.” She glanced to the Sten and they were fixing her with an impatient glare, sheepishly she tucked wayward curls behind her ear and bowed to Cullen. “I believe the Sten wish to return to the Compound. Good day, Knight-Captain.” She said goodbye as she whirled on the spot and left the Gallows with the Sten, leaving Cullen to watch them leave.

 

Ivy placed the pouch of coins on the Arishok’s desk and bowed to him. He picked up one gold coin and twisted it to reflect the fading light of dusk. The Qunari didn’t have currency –except for trade with foreign kingdoms- and it showed in his distasteful sneer at the object.  
  
“You have done well, Seer.” His voice rumbled as he stood and placed the coins on the shelf in his large tent. It would be easier mow to trade for food with the merchants who travelled through Kirkwall and the coming few months didn’t seem so worrisome. “Did you learn of anything?”  
  
“There are reports of Tal’Vashoth on the coast, they are waylaying travellers.” Ivy began reporting the information she had gathered from the merchant. “The people are becoming restless, the refugees coming in has put a strain on the city’s resources and the Viscount is not administrating his office well enough according to a few vocal elements.” The Arishok hummed and signalled for her to continue. “And rumours of Hawke’s accomplishments are circulating among Lowdown, apparently he cleaned out a mansion filled with demons recently.”  
  
“We should give him a challenge.” The Arishok smiled.  
  
“The Tal’Vashoth perhaps?” Ivy answered. “I can deliver the request the next time I go to trade.” The Arishok considered this for a moment before agreeing and sending her back to her duties.

 

It was barely three weeks before Ivy found herself staring at the doors to the Hanged Man tavern in Lowdown, the noise of revelry and possibly fighting muffled by the wooden walls. The Sten behind her growled in unhappiness at the prospect of having to go into a nest of Bas to protect the wilful Seer and Ivy smiled at him in a mixture of comfort and teasing to which she got a glare. She squared her shoulders and felt the staff shift against her back, it was time.

The moment she stepped in the ruckus of the tavern stilled and she felt exposed as the tavern patrons turned to stare at the both of them curiously. Ivy wasted no time in a staring competition and walked to the bar where the bartender spread his hands wide on the beer top and grumbled in a question of _what do you want_.  
  
“Varric Tethras.” She said calmly and the bartender gestured up at the stairs.  
  
“Third door.” He replied as he threw a cloth over his shoulder and Ivy and Sten ascended the stairs to the murmurs and gossip of the people.

They waited a moment after Ivy knocked on the upstairs door before a dwarf opened it and tried to hide his confused look. Ivy bowed to him and gave him a sly smile, trying to withhold her laughter at his expression.  
  
“Varric.” She purred. “It is good to see you again.”  
  
“Uh,” came his eloquent response, “likewise?” he reluctantly stepped aside and let Ivy into his quarters. It seemed made for the dwarf with small versions of furniture scattered about, however Ivy did not expect to see his companions sitting so comfortably at the table. “We have guests.” Varric called to them as he led the two further into the room. A couple of them stood in politeness and Sten growled in warning behind her, the movement of the armed men putting him on edge. Ivy held up her hand to halt the ones who stood.  
  
“No need for pleasantries.” She said somewhat exasperated. “My friend is wary about escorting me away from the compound so please sit.” They sat down slowly, giving each other confused glances.  
  
“Shanedan, Seer.” The male elf said and Ivy bowed.  
  
“Fenris.” She said in greeting.  
  
“You know his name?” Hawke asked while gesturing to the elf with his tankard, sloshing the ale onto the table.  
  
“I know all your names.” Ivy said with a smile.  
  
“Right. Because you’re a _Seer.”_  Hawke drawled before draining his tankard.  
  
“Possibly.” Ivy said with an irritated smile. “Or possibly because you are so obnoxious with your endeavours that it is impossible to be unaware of your presence.” That comment earned her a few giggles from his friends. “Either way, I am here on business.”  
  
“No.” Hawke grumbled and Varric sighed in exasperation.  
  
“Hawke isn’t very business orientated.” Varric said in a half apology and smiled at Ivy. “I am _very_ good at it, however, so how can I help?”  
  
“The Arishok has asked that you address the Tal’Vashoth threat on the coast, we are eager to see safe travel through the area.” Ivy said to Varric who frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“Why would he care about that?” Varric asked suspiciously. “That would be the Viscount’s responsibility.”  
  
“We gather resources from the area and it is hindering our progress,” Ivy lied a little, “We have already approached your Viscount however have no faith in his ability to do any more than put up a bounty.”  
  
“Tal’Vashoth are not easy to kill.” Hawke said sullenly and Ivy got the feeling that he was drinking for more than recreation. “Even with both the bounty and your coin, it is not worth it.” Ivy closed her eyes and tilted her head in thought, this was not going in the direction she wanted. She looked to the Sten behind her and spoke in Qunlat.  
  
“Wait outside, Sten.” She said and he gave her a glare before huffing and turning to leave and close the door behind him. Her audience watched her curiously as she waited a moment, ensuring that the door clicked closed before she turned back to them with a serious expression. “You have no reason to trust me.” She spoke in a hushed voice and gave them all a measured look. “And every reason to refuse this request, it is a demanding task despite your previous experience in fighting Tal’Vashoth, but-” she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder again just to make sure the Sten truly was gone and she sighed looking down at the floor, she felt suddenly exhausted. “What is coming, it’s-” she shook her head. “You don’t need to fight the Tal’Vashoth to clear the coast. You need to fight them to know how to fight a Kossith. And win.” She said to Hawke who raised his head in thought, his attention finally gained completely.  
  
“Why do I need to know that?” he asked suspiciously and Ivy shook her head.  
  
“I cannot say, I’m sorry Hawke.” She replied and he looked about his companions who shrugged at her reluctance.  
  
“Do you really see the future?” he asked curiously.  
  
“I see what could be.” She evaded the question somewhat. “The future has infinite possibilities, it just depends on your choices.”  
  
“A dangerous thing to know.” Aveline spoke. “Especially when your leash is held by the Arishok.” Ivy tried to feel angry at the comment but just felt overwhelming apathy instead.  
  
“Yes.”  She said, her throat tight at the thought that what she was doing could get her killed, she didn’t want to die. She wanted to prevent the war from happening. “I'm sure you could appreciate exactly how _understanding_ the Arishok would be if he were here. In honesty I want to stop the… what’s coming, but if I cannot do that, if _he_ finds out the reasons behind my actions, then it will fall to you.” She bowed to them deeply, hand crossed over her chest and hair bouncing to fall forward. She straightened her back and spoke in a louder voice. “Thank you for seeing me Messare Hawke. Should you complete your task please come see us at the compound.” Hawke nodded his head to her and she left the rooms to be escorted back by a bored looking Sten. Her heart pounded for the entire walk, what the hell was she doing?

Two weeks had passed without Hawke coming to the compound and rumours of the Tal’Vashoth persisted amongst the citizens, the Arishok grew dark in his mood since he was used to his orders being followed straight away and Ivy tried to avoid him as often as possible which wasn’t working as well as she had hoped.  
  
“This inaction is insulting.” He grumbled as Ivy passed him a fresh cup of tea, he hadn’t asked for it but she knew it would help his mood and she had taken to pushing it onto him subtly over the last few months. “Perhaps your vision was incorrect.” He thought aloud and Ivy hummed in response.  
  
“Perhaps I overestimated his character.” She said quietly, trying to console him as she knelt beside him and handed him the tea, his large hand cupped her small one as he took it from her and placed it on his desk. “The way he speaks, it is not how I thought he would.” It was more that it was not how _she_ would have spoken in the imagined scenario, it was an almost bitter experience to know that someone she had been waiting for was less than she anticipated.  
  
“We cannot place high expectations on the Bas, Seer.” His deep voice rolled over her as his hand came to rest against her cheek, the heat from his palm searing against her cool skin. “We must rely on only ourselves to achieve or goals.”  
  
“I will double my efforts to gather the information we need.” Ivy pledged and could have sworn that his lips curled up into a smile. “The relic _will_ be found, Arishok, then we will be able to leave.” His hand slid into her curls and she instinctively leant back into the warmth, tilting her head back as his fingers traced along her jaw and up to brush her lower lip. Her eyes closed from the sensation as his thumb followed the trail his fingers had travelled, the creaking of his chair telling her that he was leaning closer as his lips barely brushed her own, his warm breath gliding along her skin as her heartbeat fluttered. Gingerly her hands reached up to graze at his skin, fingertips on his jaw and arm to feel the heated flesh and it seemed enough to urge him to go further, to press against her lips in a deep, rhythmic kiss that left her breathless and aching for more. They parted and she opened her eyes, carelessly meeting his gaze and feeling the press of a vision rearing in her mind, her sight whiting out she pushed the image back, closing her eyes but not before they glazed over- the colours of her iris disappearing.  
  
“Breathe.” The Arishok comforted her through his demands, aware of her mind’s betrayal. He removed his fingers from her jaw and slid them beneath the fabric of her shirt, palm flat against her chest and grazing against the flesh of her breasts he controlled her breathing through pressure. His lips left a trail along her jaw before settling on the bend of her neck and she was arching into him, giving better access to her skin as he nipped and tasted her flesh. His growl vibrated down her skin as he breathed deeply, his hand sliding lower beneath the fabric to graze over the mound of her breast completely-  
  
“Arishok.” Came the call of a Sten from outside of the tent and the two of them froze momentarily, the Arishok seemed torn between ignoring the Sten, giving in to his baser needs, and doing his duty, pressing his forehead against hers in frustration before pulling away and gesturing for her to sit on the fur by the bookshelf – her usual reading spot. She moved away and felt his eyes follow her as she did, breathing deeply to calm herself she picked up a book and opened it to a random page.  
  
“Enter.” The Arishok called casually and the Sten walked in without looking Ivy’s way.  
  
“There are mercenaries at the gate claiming they have business with you.” The Sten reported and the Arishok nodded, ordering them to be let into the compound.

Hawke stood before them with Anders, Fenris and Varric and they were all covered in blood and thicker substances, they glanced between the Arishok and Ivy, who stood next to him at the top of the stairs.  
  
“Speak.” The Arishok demanded as he leaned forward on his seat, Hawke stepped forward to comply.  
  
“The Tal’Vashoth on the coast have been eradicated as per your request.” Hawke said simply and the Arishok stood and took a few steps before pulling out a small pouch of coins and throwing them down to Hawke who caught it easily.  
  
“I thank you, human.” The Arishok grumbled, unhappy at having to handle the coins. “Should the need to conduct business arise again my Seer will contact you.”  
  
“A pleasure, Arishok.” Hawke drawled and turned to go before pausing and looking to them again. “The Tal’Vashoth, they were not many.” Hawke said. “Could your own soldiers not handle them?”  
  
“They could have easily.” The Arishok replied somewhat smugly. “Leave now, Hawke.” He waited until the group had left before leaning in Ivy’s direction. “He has potential.” He said flatly before continuing with his duties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am glad,” she said quietly as he leaned upright and brought his other hand to mirror the first, “that I washed up on Par Vollen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments so far! This began as a throw away story, written almost purely to get it out of my head and now it seems to have taken over!  
> And, fair warning, this chapter is NSFW hence the rating change.

It was the middle of winter and they had been in Kirkwall for a year.

Just as the summer seemed unbearably hot the winter followed to be unbearably cold, freezing rain and sleet had made the stone streets slippery and not for the first time Ivy really missed shoes. The stores of herbs and food became useful as the stocks in the Kirkwall market became low, herbs became rarer to the Circle especially but the Qunari had managed to store enough to manage constant trade throughout the end of winter and well into autumn, the food was well stocked within the compound which was useful considering that they seemed to be attracting more and more people seeking to become viddithari.

For the most part not a lot had changed, the citizens were still wary of the Qunari, the Qunari were still disgusted by the filthy city they were forced to reside in and the Arishok was growing more and more restless by the day. Ivy was still trading with the Kirkwall Circle, getting her allotted teasing of the Knight-Captain in once a month and digging for information on the relic. She knew who had it of course, or at least who had it when it was stolen, but was unsure if approaching Isabela was the best idea, or even Hawke since she was certain they were lovers. Either way she procrastinated on her decisions and lied to everyone around her when they asked for information.

Ivy had spent one unusually cold morning preparing to take a bundle of Dawn Lotus to the Circle, it was rare enough in the area to warrant a good trade – especially now that they had a dwarven merchant-turned-viddithari to complete the trade for them. She wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood up high in a vain hope to keep her ears warm and curls confined before ducking out of her tent and crossing the short distance to the Arishok’s tent. A moment after the Sten announced her presence she ducked into the warmth of the tent, a small, crude brazier filled the air with heat and a scent similar to sandalwood.

The Arishok was standing by his bookshelf running his fingers idly over the spines of the books, glancing at Ivy momentarily he gestured for her to come closer. Ivy didn’t hesitate and walked over to him, letting his arm draw her in to stand close as her eyes were drawn to the bookshelf and his wandering hand.  
  
“I want you to find Hawke and tell him of the Relic.” He said softly as his free hand idly played with the feathers of her arm circlet. “Or is he not ready?”  
  
“I believe he is.” She said, leaning into his touch absently. “Shall I summon him here?”  
  
“No.” He said and Ivy looked up to him in surprise. “I trust your ability to convince him.” She was suspicious of this, to say that the Arishok was a control freak was an understatement but he gave her no sign that he was teasing, instead he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek, her hand raising to touch his jaw as he did.  
  
  


The Gallows were probably the most depressing place in the city, and that was including Darktown. Spikes and statues of slaves adorned almost every surface while grim-faced Templars and skittish Mages wandered about. Out of the whole place there was probably one redeeming feature and it was striding up to Ivy with a grin on his face.  
  
“I haven’t seen you for a while.” The Knight-Captain smiled at her and nodded at the accompanying Sten as the dwarven viddithari worked his magic on the merchant. Cullen had been absent for the previous exchanges and Ivy was sad she didn’t get her allotted time to small talk and stir up the bashful Templar recently.  
  
“Too long,” Ivy responded quietly and grinned at him from beneath her hood, “I was starting to worry that you were sick of speaking to me.” He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” He reassured her and rested his hands over the hilt of his sword in a comfortable stance. “So, I have to ask,” he said with a sheepish grin, “what is it really like? Living with the Qunari?” Ivy laughed and glanced over to the Sten who were watching the area with keen eyes.  
  
“It’s…hard to explain.” Ivy said as she tried to think of a way to. “I guess it would be similar to being in an army, or the Templars. We each have a duty and train to fight, we work together to achieve the purpose of the Qun.” Ivy hesitated after that sentence, she had never really been _converted_ , never truly believed in the system, but hearing herself recite words of _purpose_ and _duty_ made something sit uneasily in her stomach.  
  
“It does sound like the Templars,” he leaned in and gave her a sly smile, “all duty and no time to yourself.” Ivy giggled and promptly covered her mouth as if she would have been scolded, glancing to the Sten before lowering her hand again. “What, not allowed to laugh?” Cullen said with an amused yet concerned expression, following her glance to the Qunari.  
  
“Of course I am.” She said defensively. “I just-” _haven’t had an occasion to for a long time, am worried about the Sten reporting my inappropriate conduct with a Bas,_ her thoughts teased her _“_ \- never mind.” Cullen frowned but let the topic drop.  
  
“You know, if you ever need to leave the Compound, you could always join the Templars.” Cullen said softly, almost worriedly, Ivy gave him a sly smile.  
  
“And be your _personal_ assistant, Knight-Captain?” she teased and Cullen’s cheeks flushed suddenly.  
  
“ _No,_ I mean- that’s not what I meant- _Maker_.” He huffed and realised he was being teased, laughing and shaking his head as he stared at his feet.  
  
“It’s not a _terrible_ suggestion,” Ivy mused and Cullen looked up at her, “and I thank you for it, but I fear that it is not the right time.” Cullen nodded to her before glancing around the area, checking on the crowds that were filtering through the Gallows and frowning as he saw a certain group of mercenaries walk through.  
  
“Oh Maker – what now?” Cullen swore under his breath and Ivy turned to see a blood covered Hawke and friends sauntering into the Gallows with a purpose. “I’m sorry, Ivy, but I may have to cut our time short.”  
  
“I understand,” Ivy bowed to him and smiled, “Hawke is a demanding creature.” Cullen nodded to her in goodbye and watched Hawke approach in reservation, letting Ivy return to her work.  
  
  


Ivy timed her group to leave the Gallows as Hawke and his friends did, she made a point to bow in greeting to him and he wasted a smile on her, it wasn’t genuine and he looked exhausted but she gave him appoint for trying. His armour was caked in dry blood and the small amount of rain did nothing to shift the patches, however it did leave his hair mussed in amusing angles.  
  
“Seer.” He said and the exhaustion was evident in his voice. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”  
  
“And here I was thinking I had seamlessly timed our exits together.” Ivy said with a grin and he flashed her a more genuine smile.   
  
“I don’t think your skills lie in subtlety.” He teased and the Dwarven Viddithari chortled before receiving a shove from the Sten.  
  
“By the looks of things neither do yours.” She rebutted and gestured at his armour and he reluctantly shrugged in agreement. “I won’t keep you, you all look – and smell – like death. But I need to meet with you soon.”   
  
“What about?” Hawke asked, although it seemed it was more of an automatic question instead of actual curiosity, Ivy shot him a clear _you know I can’t tell you here_ look and he sighed. “The Hanged Man. Tomorrow night.”  
  
“Thank you.” She said before bowing to him and letting his group continue on their way.

 

She was bundling herbs at her workbench that night when the entry to her tent opened and the Arishok ducked inside looking pensive, she bowed to him before noticing the blood on his arm and side, camouflaging against the red war paint.   
  
“Arishok!” she said in surprise before striding the few paces to him, searching for the source of the blood. It was a deep gash the length of her finger on his shoulder, not bad considering but it would have to be stitched back together. She directed him in without another word and ushered him onto the furs that made her bedding, he sat without a complaint or demand and looked about the tent in boredom while Ivy ducked out to request hot water and a clean cloth from a Sten.

Rifling through her pack she found a satchel that held a sharp, curved needle and clean, hardy thread. She knelt in front of the Arishok, bringing a candle to rest closer to them both so she could see the gash easier as a Sten walked in and placed a bowl of hot water on the ground beside her. Ivy casually threw a couple of sprigs of elfroot into the water and gave it time to steep like a giant bowl of tea before dipping the cloth into it and began delicately cleaning the area around the wound. He let her work in silence as she ensured the wound was cleaned properly and began to stich the flesh back together, not even a twitch when she pierced his flesh with the needle.

Once sewn back together she ran the cloth over the area again, cleaning the excess blood before delicately slathering on an antiseptic balm to prevent infection. He watched her as she worked, the dark eyes following her every movement as she picked up the cloth again and wiped away the blood from his chest and torso.  
  
“It is not a serious wound, it shouldn’t hinder the movement of your arm.”  Ivy spoke softly as she inspected the stitches and looked for any blood she missed. “But for it to heal faster you should avoid training with the Sten. Otherwise it may reopen or scar badly.” The Arishok hummed his acknowledgement.  
  
“I will continue to train.” He said flatly before giving Ivy a somewhat pleased look. “Your healing skills have come far.”   
  
“I’ve had a long time to learn.” She said quietly, a year in Kirkwall and a year in Par Vollen, she was beginning to wonder if she would ever find a way home. She rarely paused to think about it, always so busy in her day and exhausted at night that when she did stop to wonder about the possibility of finding her way back it had changed seasons. The Arishok seemed to sense the hesitation in her movements as she thought of the time she had spent with the Qunari and brought his hand up to cup her elbow, breaking her pattern of thought as she dragged her attention back to him.  
  
“In Par Vollen,” he spoke as he pulled her forwards gently, shuffling her closer as he leaned back to prop himself up with his arm, completely comfortable on her bed of furs. “It is not unusual for _Bas_ to come and pledge themselves to the Qun, they escape the uncertainty and poverty of their lives and convert to become safe and purposeful. Others are shown a better way once my armies have been victorious in their lands.” He pulled her leg forward from behind the crook of her knee and urged her to straddle his lap, she did so and continued to gently wipe away a small patch of dried blood, listening to his deep voice and purposefully avoiding his dark eyes. “When you arrived on our shores, my first thought was to kill you. You were fearful and uncertain, weak enough to be a burden for a long time. Do you know what changed my mind?” Ivy glanced at him, his lips were curled into a small smile as he watched her fuss over the long clean patch of skin.  
  
“You wanted to know about my homeland.” She said with certainty, she remembered the day that Iron Bull led her into the large room to be judged by the Three Pillars, it was hard to forget.  
  
“No.” He said flatly and began to idly trace the patterns on her forearm with one clawed finger. “I saw worth in your resolve, when you ran through my quarters from the Sten to escape I had long enough to watch while you decided the risk to yourself, I watched you climb onto the balustrade and steel yourself for the outcome of your decision. It was-” he paused as if to think of the word, “satisfying to see someone outside the Qun accept the responsibility of their own actions, to take the leap knowing full well it could mean their death.” He reached up and gently brushed a stray hair away from her face, hitching his hips to bring her body closer to his chest as the large hand settled on the curve of her side. “Viddithari can train for years to become a part of the Qun and still be wanting when compared to you.” Ivy felt herself flush from the compliment, her gaze averting as she felt a treacherous smile form on her lips. This man had frightened her for so long in the beginning that she sometimes found it hard to believe he was anything but a soldier, but the past year had shown her otherwise as she got to know him better, as he allowed himself to break from the regimented General and act softer around her- even if begrudgingly.

Ivy cleared her throat quietly and thanked him for the praise, acutely aware of the thumb that traced circles on her hipbone and slightly dipped lower on each pass.   
  
“I am glad,” she said quietly as he leaned upright and brought his other hand to mirror the first, “that I washed up on Par Vollen.” And it was true, unlike so much of what she had to speak of lately, she was grateful that it was the Qunari who took her in, who taught her how to adapt and survive in this world instead of leaving her to fend for herself or to simply die in the Blight. The Arishok’s decision to convert her meant she could fight, read and speak another language and even just understand how they mark the passage of time. Not to mention her newfound healing skills and knowledge of the local plants, she could sew together wounds, set broken bones and make potions. _Potions._ Two years in Australia would have meant scraping together a means to live, two years with the Qunari was _living._

The Arishok leaned forwards and placed a kiss on her collarbone, he still had to lean down slightly despite Ivy sitting in his lap.  
  
“The Qun suits you.” He rumbled as he drew her into his chest, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace that felt overwhelmingly _safe_ to her. “And you suit it.” Ivy sighed a little and did something she had never allowed herself to do before, despite the year of touches and desperate kisses shared between them she had never allowed herself to simply relax in his arms as she did now, letting herself close her eyes and nestle in the crook of his neck as a hand snaked it’s way under her mass of curls and gently rubbed at her scalp in small circles. She had a moment of apprehension knowing that her actions weren’t in line with the Qun and that the Arishok would be within his dutiful right to scold her but her worries melted away as he held her tighter and leaned back into the pile of furs, clutching her to his chest as he stared at the side of the tent – his horns not allowing him to be in any other position.   
  
“Seer,” he spoke softly and broke her out of her comforted revere, “Should the opportunity present itself, would you return home?” She felt her stomach tug uncomfortably at the question, if she was given a way to get back home to her family, to her old life, she would have to take it wouldn’t she? She would leave Thedas, the Qunari, The Arishok and return to her boring job and grow old, retire and die. Wouldn’t she?  
  
“No.” she said without moving from the comfort of his warm skin and she felt something break inside of her, the last piece of hope she was clinging onto that she would see her family again, the only drive she had to go back. “No I don’t think I could, not anymore.”

He quickly and carefully rolled them both so he was leaning above her, his wide torso blocking any light that flickered from the candle that had burned halfway, he looked down to her with a pensive frown and ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw sending a shiver along her skin.  
  
“You will stay.” His voice was almost a rasp as he leant down and brushed his lips against hers, his eyes lidded he whispered against her lips as she lazily tried to chase them and seal the kiss.

“If you would have me.” She teased with a smile and their hands and mouths steadily grew more desperate as the passion built between them, the tension like a dam wall ready to break. He pulled back slightly and returned her smile with a smirk of his own.  
  
“I would have no other, Kadan.” He pushed down, crushing his lips to hers as she arched up into him, hands pulling at clothing where they met. His teeth gazing against her skin sent a shivering sensation trailing through her, his attention finding its way down to the peak of her breast as he nipped and licked to a chorus of her gasps. The deep rumble of his growling laugh accompanied a playful bite and Ivy couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as well, her hands raked gently into his hair, fingers massaging into his scalp and brushing gently along the leathery base of his horns. As her fingertips wandered with a mind of their own the Arishok shivered and groaned, subtly chasing her fingertips to gain more pressure.  
  
“I was told not to touch a Kossith’s horns without permission.” She purred as he ran his hands up the length of her thighs, pushing up the deep red fabric to expose her to him.  
  
“You have permission.” He said as if it was an order and tilted his head to give her better access, she reached up and ran her thumbs along the ridges, pressing hard against the underside as he growled and arched back to chase the pressure. His breath staggered he towered above her, the toned, corded muscles stretching as one arm rested above her head to support him and the other slipped between them, his clawed fingers delicate against the heat of her sex.

He watched the delicate changes in her expression as he parted her with his fingers, a dark and pleased smile settling on his face as he felt the wet heat at her core, a finger sinking in slowly as her back arched in response to the slow burn of pleasure. He watched her as he explored her, slowly adding another finger as the pad of his thumb circled her clit, sighing in patience as she gasped and clung onto his shoulders, keening at the slow and methodical way he urged her to become undone. She almost tried to wriggle away as he began to add a third finger, his sudden but gentle bite on her shoulder warning her not to move suddenly. With a growl he glanced around, spying a nearby crate of oils and plucking out a small bottle, frowning he put it back and inspected another – deeming this one acceptable. He uncorked it with his sharp teeth and poured some into his hand before resuming his position and pressing the three fingers into her slowly, her heart pounding and breath ragged he kissed her deeply and encouraged her with his own breathy moans, moments later she was arching into him, hands gripping him tightly as her orgasm cascaded over her, her moaning stifled by his kiss.

Floating back into reality slowly she noticed the Arishok had moved to remove his clothing, folding them beside the furs neatly before he picked up the oil again and poured some into the palm of his hand and running it up the considerable length of his erection.   
  
“I forgot how delicate human women were compared to Kossith.” He said cautiously as he settled himself between her legs again, absently running the head of his cock against her sex she watched a shiver pass through him. “I will endeavour not to hurt you, but if you feel pain-” she cut off his worry with a kiss and he melted into it, a contented sigh escaping him before he shifted his hips slightly and began to press himself into her.

It felt like an eternity as he worked himself into her with small, delicate thrusts of his hips and while it was certainly pleasurable it was the most Ivy had ever had to accommodate, she couldn’t think of any previous lovers that could come close. Deep breathing and matching his rhythm assisted until he hit the end of her, his cock bumping her cervix in a pang of painful pleasure as she gasped and involuntarily tightened around him. Glancing down between them she could see that he was not completely in her and forced herself to relax, wriggling as if to encourage him further. He laughed and kissed her, giving her an incredulous look as he pulled away.  
  
“I do not intend on hurting you, Kadan. Behave yourself.” He teasingly scolded her and found a steady rhythm, his hips moving in an almost circular motion as his movements damn near lifted her lower half off the ground, tearing a pliant groan from her throat at the apex of each thrust. She felt the heavy pleasure pooling in her abdomen again as their movements became less delicate, his façade of calm finally giving way to show his animalistic desire as his claws began to prick at her skin and his kisses became almost consuming. With a cry she shuddered beneath him as she came again, encouraging him to lose control before spilling inside her with a growl.

He pulled her to curl up along the long line of his body, head resting on his shoulder he gently ran his fingertips along the naked flesh of her hips. Her heart pounded as he lazily kissed her neck, what the hell did she just do? She just had sex- _unprotected_ sex- with the Arishok, the man she knew who would set this city on fire. Her mind was warring with itself while her body was contentedly wrapped in his arms. She tried to sit up only to have her abdomen painfully contract and she carefully lowered herself again.  
  
“I was careless.” The Arishok scolded himself and she shook her head.  
  
“I will be fine, honestly.” She reassured him before looking about the room nervously. “But- I should have told you, I am not on anything to prevent birth.” She frowned, trying to think of what they would use here, some kind of herb surely. “To be honest I don’t know what is used here.” The Arishok hummed, almost a huff of laughter.  
  
“The chance of a child being born to parents of mixed species is rare.” He said and spread his palm over the flat of her stomach. “Surely you are aware of this.”  
  
“Well,” she began as he pulled up a fur blanket to cover them both, they were far too comfortable in the afterglow to consider moving, “I didn’t know that.”  
  
“Do your people forbid such pairings?” he asked curiously and she shook her head.  
  
“No, just that there are only humans.” She replied and he shifted to look at her properly.  
  
“Your borders are closed to other species?” he assumed and she smiled.  
  
“No, we have never met any others. Elves and Dwarves, they are just stories.” She said and he frowned at her.  
  
“I have not heard of a land, touched by the Qun or otherwise, that is so isolated.” He said thoughtfully and she hummed before stifling a yawn. “And yet you adjusted quickly to the knowledge of their existence.”   
  
“I had to.” She said sleepily as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, settling beside her and eventually falling asleep.

  
  
It was long past her usual wake-up time when she blearily awoke to find her bed empty, cursing to herself she rolled out gingerly as her muscles twinged and complained from being overworked the night before and she made her way to the bathing area in an attempt to clean the various dry fluids from her skin.

Once there she tried to be quick, the feeling of Qunari eyes following her dogged her actions however when she turned to check if she was being watched she couldn’t see anyone, putting it down to paranoia she continued bathing until a Sten approached and requested that she go to the Arishok.

He sat at his desk in his tent, Ivy had hastily wrapped her clothing around her and looked a bit bedraggled but was acceptable, or at least he hadn’t commented on it yet. He did however, fixate a measured glare on her.  
  
“I allowed you to sleep longer than normal because I felt that you would be unwell.” He said in a disapproving tone. “But it is not something you should make a habit of.” Ivy bowed to him and failed to hide the wince as her abdomen complained.  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” She said. “I was careless, it will not happen again.” He watched her for a moment before standing and waving for the Sten to leave, the Sten did so without even a hint of complaint. The Arishok stopped in front of her and gently cupped her face, kissing her softly.  
  
“Embrium and Dawn Lotus tea will assist with recovering,” He said with a smirk, “I suggest you drink it daily.” He quipped and Ivy felt her face flush at the innuendo before bowing again and being ushered to catch up on her duties.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke was a pile of blood and metal on a stone slab, the blood covering so much of his armour that Ivy’s brain almost refused to make any sense of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, all medical details in this chapter are likely wildly inaccurate.

Hawke sent a messenger to Ivy, informing her that he needed to attend a contract urgently and he would not be able to meet. She threw the paper down in frustration and the Arishok wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to lean against him.  
  
“You will find a way.” The Arishok said with certainty before lifting her up and carrying her to his bed with a smile.

She awoke to a blinding pain in her stomach and the smell of a burning city hovering in the air. Chest heaving as her lungs tried to claw as much oxygen into her body as humanly possible she frantically looked around her as she clutched her abdomen, the ringing in her ears giving way to a keening sound and the deep rumbling of a concerned voice.

She still smelled the burning of wood and flesh from her dream, much too close to being a vision for her liking, the heat still flushed her skin – different from the warmth that exuded from the Arishok who had propped himself up beside her, his arm anchoring her in a room that looked increasingly like his tent and less like the streets of Lowtown.  
  
“Seer,” his calm and somewhat impatient voice snapped her focus onto his grey skin, the slightly darker shade of his lips prominent in the low light of the candles and moon, “listen to me, breathe.” He ordered and the horror of her nightmare ebbed to the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, seven counts in, hold and seven counts out.   
  
“The city was burning.” She said to him quietly, knowing he would want to know the details of her dream-visions, before she had always debated on _how much_ to tell the Arishok, but it seemed a better move to tell him about the fires than not, at least this way she could plant into his mind that he could lose good soldiers from the fires – it was just a matter of keeping the secret that his own soldiers start it.  
  
“You were calling for Hawke in your sleep.” He said flatly and she frowned, she was calling for Hawke? She tried to concentrate, to dredge up the parts of the dream she had forgotten on waking when her stomach twinged in pain again and she involuntarily let out a hiss. Leaning back she lifted her shirt and looked to where the pain was ebbing from, across her skin was a long bruise from her navel to her side, sickly greens and purples swirled along the bruise until they disappeared under the dark colours of her tattoo. She ran her fingers along it delicately and jolted – her mind exploding with the image and feel of crude metal ripping through flesh, the plate armour she wore barely saving her life as blood splattered in a thick arc before her.

She came back to herself a sweating, gasping mess in the arms of the Arishok, the pain still ebbing in the echo of Hawke’s wound, it must have been his – it was his armour she was wearing.  
  
“I need to get to Hawke.” She said with conviction before standing shakily, the Arishok rising with her, without question or protest the Arishok nodded once before striding to the entrance of the tent, ordering the Sten to find two others to accompany Ivy into the city.  
  


Ivy and three Sten sprinted through the streets of Kirkwall towards the Chantry, making as little commotion as possible in the night. Ivy had initially thought to go to Darktown, to Anders’ clinic, but the bruise on her throbbed in agony and a feeling of overwhelming _wrong_ stabbed in her chest at the thought, but the only other place she could think of that he would be taken to for healing would be the Chantry and dammit, she really hoped she was right.

The Chantry loomed above them, the windows still glowing with light despite the late hour and Ivy bolted ahead to leap up the stairs two at a time, clutching her healers bag tight as it jostled from her movement and she knew she had been right to come here as she nearly slipped on a thick splatter of blood that was pooled ominously on the stone step. The large door to the Chantry was ajar and she pushed into it roughly, stumbling into the opulent main chamber and startling the Lay Sisters and Templars who guarded them. Out of breath she walked to the closest Sister and asked where Hawke was, the Sten catching up with her and cautiously keeping their hands away from their weapons lest they make the Templars any more nervous. The poor Sister stammered and glanced around.  
  
“He can’t be disturbed,” She said in almost a whimper, “he was gravely injured.”  
  
“I’m a healer.” Ivy said and lifted her bag as if it were evidence. “Take me to him.” The Sister began to protest before nodding her head a few too many times and leading them to an antechamber.  
  


Hawke was a pile of blood and metal on a stone slab, the blood covering so much of his armour that Ivy’s brain almost refused to make any sense of it. She had walked straight to him, mind so focussed that she didn’t see his companions or the Sisters hovering in the room, only noticing them when their hushed conversations came to an abrupt halt at her presence.   
  
“Seer,” Fenris was the first to speak, “this may not be the best time.”  
  
“Where is your healer?” Ivy almost snapped at them, glancing around the room searching for Anders, had he been there then Hawke would not be in this much trouble right now.  
  
“We aren’t sure.” Came the reply from a man Ivy had not seen before, but his dark hair and thick accent gave his identity away, Ivy was at least eighty percent sure this man was Sebastian, Prince of Starkhaven. “The Chantry Healer is tending to the poor in Darktown, we have sent for her-”  
  
“Get me hot water, plenty of Elfroot and clean bandages.” Ivy interrupted and felt Hawke’s forehead – it was clammy and feverish. “Two – no, _three_ bowls for the water, soap and salt.” The Sisters glanced at each other while Hawke’s friends stared at her, some in confusion and others in relief. The Sisters weren’t moving and Ivy shot them a glare that could rival the Arishok’s. “If you delay any further Hawke _will_ die,” She growled at them, “Get the supplies. Or I will send the Sten.” The Sisters moved quickly after that and Hawke’s friends moved closer asking what they could do to help.

She directed them efficiently, ordering the large table be moved to be next to her which Aveline and Fenris did with no complaint, Varric building up the fireplace in the room to chase away the frigid winter chill and Merrill emptying out the contents of Ivy’s bag and lining it up in a somewhat useful order on the table, she even raided the Chantry’s stores and put together what she thought could help – even though she didn’t seem overly confident with it. Isabela approached quietly, eyes glancing between Ivy, the Sten and the doorway and asked what she could do to help. Ivy glanced up at her and paused, she was face to face with the woman who caused so much trouble, and she had a strong urge to have the Sten drag the pirate back to the compound.  
  
“Find something to put under his head.” Ivy managed to say icily to the woman who just nodded at her solemnly.

The Sisters returned with the supplies and Ivy washed her hands thoroughly with the Soap in one bowl before turning to Hawke in apprehension. She could do this. She _had_ to do this. The armour had to come off but she could tell from the amount of blood and her earlier vision that it was a deep wound and it was likely that the plate armour was keeping him alive still by holding his insides _in._ She needed to keep the pressure once the armour was removed.  
  
“Sebastian,” she called and he stepped up waiting for an order, “hold up your hands.” He did so with a somewhat confused look and they were perfect, thin, strong fingers and trim fingernails. Ivy nodded and gestured at the bowl. “Wash your hands thoroughly.”

As Sebastian scrubbed Ivy folded a clean bandage and sterilised her tools, soon a calmly worried archer was standing on the far side of the stone slab and Ivy on the near side, Hawke breathing raggedly between them.  
  
“We need to get the armour off, but it will kill him if we don’t keep the pressure on.” Ivy said to Sebastian in a soothing voice. “I need you to reach in _carefully_ and keep the pressure as my Sten removes the armour, then I’ll sew him up and bandage him, once all that is done we can work on fighting the infection.” Sebastian nodded silently and readied his hands to slide underneath the armour, with a confirming nod Ivy lifted the lower half of the metal armour gently to give a little room for Sebastian’s hands without taking too much pressure off the wound. “Careful,” Ivy cautioned him, “Don’t poke his intestines or you’ll risk perforating them.”  
  
“That is not encouraging.” Sebastian weakly joked as he shuddered and went slightly pale. “Okay, I’ve got it. I think- Urgh this is disgusting.”  
  
“Sten,” Ivy called to one in Qunlat, “cut his armour off.” The Sten obliged efficiently and carefully cut the leather straps of the armour, lifting the front plate of metal away from Hawke’s torso. The gouge was deep, extending the same length that the bruise did on Ivy but they were lucky, the wound was only deep enough to show internal organs in one spot, barely a centimetre long, but without the pressure of working muscles or Sebastian’s hands that could have easily ruptured, killing Hawke.

Ivy put a piece of smaller cloth into the bowl that had a mixture of Elfroot extract and Prophet’s Laurel – to serve as an antiseptic and to kick-start Hawke’s natural healing – before threading a needle. Carefully, she began to stitch his skin back together, wiping and cleaning the wound as she did. It was a long and stressful task, each time Sebastian had to carefully move his hands across half a centimetre to allow Ivy to sew the next stitch she was sure the wound would rupture further, but Sebastian was cautious and his hands did not shake or waiver.

The bowl of elfroot had to changed twice and there were bloody bandages piled at Ivy’s feet but she was on the last stitch and Hawke was still breathing, it seemed as she tied and cut the last one everyone around her sighed in relief and Ivy let her tired, cramping hands flex to stop them shaking from the adrenaline. She cleaned the rest of his torso of the blood before a Sister stepped into pat him dry with a small, clean towel and Ivy quickly washed her hands again before smearing an antiseptic balm she had made onto his wound and placing the folded bandage over the length of it. With the help of the Sten they carefully lifted Hawke to remove the rest of his armour and wound a bandage around his torso before settling him back onto the stone and laying blankets over him.  
  
“Don’t move him.” Ivy said tiredly to the room as she cleaned the area and washed her hands for the final time. “Let his body begin to heal before taking him somewhere more comfortable.” She meandered over to an uncomfortable looking chair and flopped onto it in exhaustion, noticing the dawn light brightening the sky through the high windows.  
  
“How long until he wakes?” Isabela asked a little impatiently.  
  
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Ivy said and scrubbed her eyes with her hands, “and his body will be fighting infection, I would be surprised if he is awake before tomorrow morning. How did this happen anyway?”  
  
“Group of mercenaries in the sewers.” Aveline said as she handed Ivy a cup of water. “We’re pretty certain that their weapons were enchanted, the blade sliced through his armour as if it were butter. A better question is how _you_ knew about it.” Ivy glanced at the Sisters who were picking up the bowls with the bloody bandages and taking them away, she waited until they had left the room and the soft click of the door latch could be heard before she leaned back and raised her shirt to show the bruise on her abdomen, the exact shape and location of Hawke’s wound. A couple of them murmured and others shook their heads in disbelief, Varric laughed wearily to himself and scrubbed at his face.  
  
“I’ll stay until Hawke is no longer in danger.” Ivy said as she stared at the fire, her shirt back to its proper place. “But if you _really_ want to help him, find out where the fuck Anders got to.”  
  
“We intend to.” Fenris drawled somewhat dangerously and Ivy met his hard gaze.  
  
“Best keep a close eye on him.” She said quietly, grabbing a spare blanket and throwing it around her shoulders before settling before the fireplace in an attempt to meditate. She would have to check on Hawke at least hourly, no chance of sleeping any time soon.  
  


Ivy sent two Sten back to report to the Arishok and inform him that she would be monitoring Hawke during the first twenty-four hours, she kept one Sten with her purely because she knew the Arishok would have a fit if she were not escorted, it was also one of the Sten that she knew didn't understand the King's Tongue. She also convinced most of Hawke’s friends to get some rest, although they insisted that they were not leaving the Chantry they did curl up in various spots around the room to get some fitful sleep – except for Fenris who refused Ivy’s suggestion and decided to scour Darktown and the Docks for Anders, Fenris was livid at the thought of the mage not coming to assist.  
  
“After everything Hawke has done for that abomination he had the audacity to refuse Hawke’s request for help.” Fenris bitterly spat, Ivy had stopped him near the doorway and was quickly bandaging a cut along his arm that she had noticed as he prepared to leave. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He scolded himself.  
  
“Don’t go out there with that rage blinding you.” Ivy said soothingly as she tied off the bandage, Fenris held it up and examined it as if no one had bothered to tend to his wounds before. “Hawke will be fine, he’s safe, so think with a clear head.”  
  
“Thanks to you.” He glanced behind Ivy to where Hawke lay pale and bundled in blankets. “And I’m grateful, but you shouldn’t have had to come here at all, we keep the abomination around for exactly this reason.”  
  
“Just don’t get injured.” Ivy scolded him tiredly and he grinned at her before clapping her arm in a friendly gesture and leaving the room.  
  
“That’s probably the longest he’s ever spoken to someone outside of the group.” Varric spoke from beside the fireplace and Ivy wandered over to him, sitting down in the uncomfortable chair again. “Maker as my witness he’s the broodiest elf you’ll ever come across.”  
  
“I’d be pretty terse with people if I had been a slave.” Ivy said as she pulled a blanket up to cover her legs. Varric gave her a measuring look as if she had just spouted all the Viscounts secrets.  
  
“You’re not a slave?” He asked curiously and Ivy glanced at him through the corner of her eyes before finding the fireplace much more interesting. “Because I don’t peg you as a willing convert.” He lowered his voice so the Sten wouldn’t overhear, moving his chair slightly closer to hers and giving her his full attention. “There are a lot of theories flying around about who you are, some are saying you’re a spy, planted in the ranks of the Qun to send back information to Ferelden.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “No? Okay well another is that you’re a mage who seduced the Arishok to escape the horrible fate of being bound and chained. Or – and this is my favourite – that you’re a noblewoman from Tevinter who escaped the gilded cage of nobility to join the Qun, fighting against your homeland in a personal rebellion!” Varric’s smile was wide as he painted the picture of her supposed secret life and Ivy couldn’t help flash him a smile.  
  
“I’m not a slave.” She answered his first question and he rested his chin on the palm of his hand with a sigh.  
  
“Then what are you?” he asked and Ivy felt her stomach sink.  
  
“I’m a possession.” She said quietly and Varric sighed.  
  
“That’s rough.” He said with genuine sympathy.  
  


Ivy was securing the blanket around Hawke after checking on him near midday, there was no signs of internal or external bleeding which was much better news than Ivy was expecting. The others had gradually woken up over the few hours but none spoke, just waited patiently for any news Ivy could give. As she was about to tell them the good news the door opened behind her, the large forms of the Arishok and a company of Sten striding into the room, imposing compared to the rest of the occupants.  
  
“Seer,” the Arishok said sternly as she bowed to him, “report.”  
  
“He is doing better than expected, fighting a fever but his bleeding has ceased. Barring no unseen circumstances he should recover fully in a month.” Ivy reported almost robotically.  
  
“Too long.” He said unhappily, pacing the room, Ivy’s stomach flipped anxiously at his tone and she could feel the presence of Hawke’s friends moving closer slowly. “Expedite his recovery.”  
  
“Without the assistance of a mage-” Ivy began and the Arishok stopped short, his hand darting out quickly to grasp at her throat, the pressure cutting off her air as her body arched towards him in an attempt to lean out of his grasp, small strangled noises escaped her throat as he pulled her towards him, standing on her toes her hands reached up to grip at his arm. His fingers were bruising as he sneered at her angrily and Ivy barely heard Aveline urging her friends to stay back.  
  
“Do not try my patience, Kadan, you _will_ expedite his recovery.” He said venomously and Ivy nodded frantically. “You will return to the compound tomorrow before sunset.” He ordered and kissed her on the forehead before releasing her throat, she stumbled back with a gasp. “Do you understand?” he asked.  
  
“Yes, Arishok.” She rasped and he turned on his heels and strode out with the company of Sten.  
  


 Merrill flitted about Ivy anxiously, getting her a cup of water and checking her neck for any signs of injury – just some bruises had formed but nothing overly serious- while Aveline, Sebastian, Isabela and Varric were trying to formulate some kind of plan to hide Ivy in a barrel and smuggle her out of the city.  
  
“I appreciate your concern,” Ivy interrupted before the plan became too elaborate, or the one Sten who remained with her became suspicious of their whispering, “but this is not the time for it.” Varric was about to protest when Aveline elbowed him hard, shaking her head in warning. She looked to Ivy with a determined expression and squared her shoulders.  
  
“What do you need to _expedite_ Hawke’s recovery?” the redhead asked. Ivy sighed, she had done everything possible _just_ to keep Hawke alive, she needed magic and she had none.  
  
“Anders.” Ivy said with a shake of her head, Fenris was already out scouring Kirkwall for the mage, who knows where either of them were.  
  
“We can spread across the city and search for him.” Sebastian suggested and Aveline agreed.  
  
“I can get my street kids to search faster, but if he has left the city-” Varric shrugged.  
  
“Where is Bethany?” Ivy asked and all eyes turned to her suddenly, some curious and others wary. Ivy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask me how I know about Bethany, you bloody well know. Did she end up going to the Deep Roads or not?”  
  
“No.” Aveline said. “She got arrested by the Templars.”  
  
“Can she heal?” Ivy asked and they nodded.  
  
“Whether she can heal or not is irrelevant. We can’t bust her out of the circle.” Isabela snapped, her hoop earring swaying with her attitude.  
  
“We may not have to. I know a guy.” Ivy said and picked up her cloak, throwing it around her shoulders and securing the staff on her back. “You guys search for Anders I’ll try to borrow Bethany from the Circle.”  
  
“I’m coming with you.” Sebastian said and smiled disarmingly as Ivy looked at him curiously. “Having a Chantry presence may sway their opinion of you.”  
  
“I’ll stay here.” Merrill piped up and shrugged when everyone turned to look at her. “Someone has to look after Hawke.”  
  
“Well, sounds like some kind of plan.” Varric said with a smile. “But the whole putting you in a barrel thing can be Plan B.”  
  


The Gallows were strangely crowded for the middle of the afternoon and Ivy craned to see if she could spot the Knight-Captain amongst the crowds. Sten grumbled unhappily behind her – the swarm of people making it difficult to protect his impetuous charge. Sebastian spied Cullen halfway up the stairs, looking down on the crowd with almost perfect posture and Ivy weaved her way over to the stairs, urging the Sten to wait at the base much to his unhappiness.  
  
“Knight-Captain.” Ivy greeted him with a smile and he was surprised to see her, it wasn’t a usual trading day and she looked somewhat worse for wear.  
  
“Ivy,” he smiled in return and they gripped each other’s forearms in salutation, “visiting outside of your usual day, did you decide to join the Templars after all?” he joked and nodded to Sebastian who bowed in return.  
  
“It’s certainly tempting,” she teased him, “but there would definitely have to be some… _private_ training sessions.” Cullen huffed and shook his head, his cheeks pinking slightly.  
  
“Maker,” Sebastian said in exasperation, “could you get on with it?” Ivy sighed and nodded, giving Cullen an _I’m sorry I’m dragging you into this_ half smile.  
  
“Cullen, I need your help.”  
  


Ivy paced the landing of the Gallows waiting for an answer. Cullen had been uncertain about Ivy _borrowing_ an acolyte like she was a library book and downright suspicious once she told him it was the other Hawke.  
  
“She’s not telling you everything.” Sebastian scolded Ivy and she growled in frustration. “The Arishok set her a near impossible task and failing it was clearly not an option.” Ivy squirmed under the scrutinising gaze of the Templar.   
  
“Is that why your neck is bruised?” Cullen asked flatly, holding back a quiver of anger. Ivy didn’t answer, just met his gaze until he sighed and rubbed at his neck. “Maker, fine, I’ll put it to the Knight-Commander.”  
  


Ivy continued to pace as the Sten and Sebastian sat on a step patiently until Cullen emerged with two Templars and a slender, tall brunette woman who had her hands bound. Ivy looked at Cullen with a hopeful grin and he held his finger up.  
  
“Three hours.” He said and Ivy nodded in agreement. “No more than that and Rigby and Juann stay with her at _all_ times.” He gestured to the two Templars and Ivy nodded through all his stipulations before he nodded towards the exit of the Gallows. “Go on, clock’s ticking.” He said softly with a smile and Ivy thanked him, stepping up quickly to place a quick kiss on his cheek before going over to introduce herself to Bethany Hawke.

Bethany was impossibly polite. So polite that Ivy wondered if she were related to Hawke at all. She didn’t complain or say a negative thing about anything as they made their way back to the Chantry, she did tell a few embarrassing stories about her brothers though. Soon enough they were in the antechamber of the Chantry and Ivy unbound Bethany’s hands under the watchful presence of the Templars and Sten. Merrill, thankfully, was nowhere to be found. Bethany paled as soon as she saw her brother bundled on the slab, walking over slowly to touch at his face Bethany trembled and sniffed.  
  
“You absolutely ridiculous, stubborn, nug-humping idiot.” Bethany scolded her unconscious brother. “Too Maker-damned stupid to get out of the way of a sword.” She muttered and pulled back the blankets to expose his stomach and the heavily bandaged wound. With a deep breath she straightened her posture and concentrated as a blue light emanated from her palms.

Ivy was transfixed, it was the first time she had seen magic this close and it was incredible. The air was almost static and had a sight metallic tang, Ivy could imagine that it would feel cold under the healing light. Hawke groaned and stirred awake, looking blearily up at his sister in confusion. Bethany winked at him before closing her eyes and concentrating harder on her spell, smiling when his hand tentatively reached out and rested on her arm.  
  
“I suppose he thought he’d never see her again.” Sebastian whispered to Ivy, not wanting to interrupt the siblings. “I’m glad your friend allowed us to bring her here.”  
  
“I just hope he didn’t have to do anything too awful.” Ivy whispered. “I hear his Commander is stone cold bitch.” Sebastian blinked at her language and shrugged in reply.  
  


The doors opened behind them and Aveline dragged Anders into the room followed by Fenris, Varric and Isabela. Anders looked exhausted and filthy, barely able to stand on his own feet and his face was gaunt, he clearly hadn’t been looking after himself since Ivy saw him last. Ivy glanced from Anders to the Templars and panic sparked in her stomach. If he started to heal Hawke now the Templars would arrest him, and although Ivy knew what he would do to the city in the future she needed him with Hawke until the Qunari were gone from Kirkwall. It was clear to her that if he left Hawke’s side now, the warrior might not live long enough to become champion.  
  
“Ah, you found him.” Ivy exclaimed and walked quickly towards the group before they could give Anders away. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, brother, I really need your help with mixing a good sleeping tea for Hawke.” Ivy looked to Aveline as she pulled Anders from her grasp and shoved him towards the table where the herbs lay. “Thank you for finding him,” Ivy said and turned to the Templars, “This is Rigby and Juann, they’re Templars escorting Bethany from the Circle.” They bowed to each other before the Templars resumed their watch over Bethany.

The moment Bethany had finished healing Hawke he quickly, and probably painfully, sat up and pulled Bethany into his arms. Limbs shaking he buried his face into her shoulder as she gently comforted him with small pats on his head.  
  
“Maker, I’m so sorry.” Hawke gasped and Bethany shushed him.  
  
“You idiot.” Bethany playfully scolded him. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known that they would find me.” Hawke looked to the Templars with a calculating gaze, as if he were wondering if they could quickly render them unconscious. “No.” Bethany warned him and he looked back to her pleadingly.  
  
“You don’t belong there-” he hissed and he was cut off with a shake of her head.  
  
“I don’t want to be on the run for the rest of my life.” She calmly resigned. “And as ridiculous as it sounds I think I can do some good there.”  
  
“There must be another way.” Hawke shook his head, his hand gripping onto Bethany’s tightly, he looked to Ivy and she felt her heart near break. “Isn’t there?” he asked her and Ivy felt all eyes on her. “What could I have done? What-” he swallowed thickly, “What do I do?”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Ivy said and felt her heart break as Hawke’s did. “If you had taken her to the Deep Roads, Bethany would be dead.”  
  
“See,” Bethany said with a smile, “you did the right thing. Now stop worrying about me and look after yourself for a change, I don’t want the only times I see you to be in a crisis.”  
  


The two Templars were kind enough to let Bethany stay for the full three hours before they escorted her home, to his credit Hawke didn’t rush in and attack the men as they bound Bethany’s hands to return to the Circle.   
  
“Thank you,” Ivy said to the Templars, “could you relay my thanks to your Knight-Captain?”  
  
“You should come and thank him yourself.” Rigby replied with a gruff smile. “He’s always in a good mood after your visits, so feel free to come by whenever you like.” He winked at her before the three left.

Anders walked up to Ivy and handed her bag to her, all neatly packed away and even with some extra things appropriated from the Chantry’s stores.  
  
“Thanks for having my back.” Anders said to her and smiled. "I promise I won't leave the city without telling anyone again."  
  
“All of our backs.” Hawke said from the fireplace. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet with you last night, but if you have the time now?” he gestured to the chairs and Ivy sat across from him, the others gathered around, some sitting and others standing, Fenris leaning casually against the wall glaring at Anders. Ivy swallowed thickly trying to figure out where to start, but just decided to jump right in.  
  
“A relic was stolen from the Qunari, a book, we need to get it back.” Ivy started and noticed Hawke glancing at Isabela, he knew about it already the arse.  
  
“Tell me about the Relic.” He said and Ivy held back all the rage that was surging to the surface.  
  
“I don’t think I need to.” She said pointedly and he nodded once, looking sourly at the fireplace. “What I will say is that returning the Relic is the only way to prevent the Arishok from invading the city, we have waited far too long and I don’t think I can stall him for much longer.”  
  
“Are reinforcements expected?” Aveline asked worriedly.  
  
“Since arriving we have been recruiting people daily, there is already an army inside the city walls.” Ivy whispered, cautious of the Sten on the far side of the room. “I can’t tell you anything else, just, please Hawke.” He met her eyes. “This can be prevented so easily, but you’re the only one who can do it.” With that she stood, gathering her cloak and staff before following the Sten out of the Chantry and back to the Compound.  
  


Ivy stopped outside of the Arishok’s tent and tried to calm her nervous stomach, the memory of his hand at her throat still fresh. She shook it from her mind and with a steadying breath walked into the tent. The sandalwood smoke hit her senses and she bowed to the Arishok who was sitting at his desk, book in hand. With a thump as the book was dropped to the desk the Arishok stood and strode to her.  
  
“Hawke will be fully recovered in one week.” Ivy blurted out before he reached her, afraid of the consequences he had in mind if she had failed. He reached her and pulled her into him his arms wrapping around her protectively as she gasped in surprise, he leaned down to kiss her head, sighing as he held her tightly.  
  
“Forgive me, Kadan.” He rumbled, the movement of his lips shifting her hair. “I let my anger cloud my judgement, walking the streets of this city filled me with such a rage and I did not have the strength of will to hold it back.” He pulled back before kneeling, his forehead resting on her breasts as his arms still held her to him. “I am ashamed of my actions.” Tentatively Ivy raised her hands to gently twine into his silver hair, a sigh of relief escaping from him. Despite the confusing swirl of emotions she didn’t pull away, she didn’t know anymore, she thought she loved him and knew she should be afraid, leave as soon as she could. But as the most frighteningly powerful man she knew nuzzled into her stomach she couldn’t bring herself to push him away and it had nothing to do with the plan to save Kirkwall, nothing to do with her lies or conspiring with Hawke. Somewhere inside of her she wanted to stay with the Arishok and it broke her heart.   
  
In the end she didn’t respond to him, and he didn’t let her go.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is not the Arishok’s guidance that we are disagreeing with.” The first Sten said. “It is yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My early holiday present to you is an early chapter! ;)

The Arishok handed her a letter and Ivy looked at it curiously, it was still sealed, addressed to her and the wax seal had the symbol for Par Vollen stamped into it.  
  
“A letter?” Ivy spoke more to herself than to the Arishok. “I don’t understand.” The Arishok looked at her amusingly.  
  
“Letters are a form of communication.” He teased her and she gave him a mock glare. “They can be sent from one city to another.”  
  
“I know what a letter _is._ ” She said in sarcastic exasperation. “I’ve just never received one before.” _Not in Thedas anyway._  
  
“Then you should probably open it.” He smiled to her and she left the tent, finding a secluded patch of sun to read it in.  


With the sounds of Qunari and Viddithari going about their day in the compound Ivy sat on a crate that was away from the bustle and in a blissful patch of sunlight. The breeze was still cold but it was beginning to warm up now that Spring was close. She cracked the seal and pulled out the brown parchment, her heart skipping a beat as she recognised Iron Bull’s scrawled handwriting. Hands shaking and a smile playing on her face she read.

_“Ivy,_

_It has been far too long since we last spoke, you’ll have to forgive me for not writing sooner but Par Vollen has been volatile without the Arishok’s presence and as Ben-Hassrath it is my duty to keep the peace among other things._

_I hope you have been keeping yourself safe, or at least keeping ahead of the trouble that follows you. The reports coming from Kirkwall are concerning and I regret not being there to assist. Give my regards to the poor Sten tasked with guarding you._

_There were rebel attacks in the village I took you to, it seems your vision was correct, and in the wake of that my squad was sent to Seheron to fight the Tal’Vashoth and Tevinter forces. I am back in Par Vollen now but lost most of my Sten and it is likely that I will be sent back in a matter of days. I am sorry for writing such a depressing letter, but I thought I should tell you sooner rather than later that I am turning myself in to the re-educators and if you were to come back to Par Vollen I would not be here._

_I remember what you told me, that we would see each other again in Haven, I only hope that it is sooner rather than later._

_Yours, Hissrad._

_-Also, I still have both my eyes.”_

  
Ivy stared at the letter as it flapped in the breeze, only letting one tear slip to roll down her cheek.  


She walked back into the Arishok’s tent and he instantly knew her sullen mood. His arm up to beckon her forward he smiled tightly at her, pulling her to settle on his lap as she came within reach. He continued to read the orders in front of him, signing them as she found peace in his warmth.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” she asked and he grunted an affirmative. “What do the re-educators do?” He frowned at her for a moment before pulling her head down to rest against him.  
  
“Should someone show evidence that they can no longer perform their duty or act against or outside the Qun the re-educators are called upon to help them return to their path.”  
  
“And if someone submits themselves to them?” The Arishok paused, putting down the missive he was reading and wrapping his arms around her.  
  
“Hissrad has been serving the Qun for longer than others in his role, usually Ben-Hassrath can only survive for two years but your friend has been doing his duty for nine.”  
  
“You knew he turned himself in?” Ivy asked and the Arishok nodded.  
  
“I gave permission to change his role a month ago. Hissrad proved himself too dangerous for his current role, he will be sent to Orlais undercover.” He gave her a measured look before reaching up to brush back her curls. “You worry for him.”  
  
“Hissrad is competent,” Ivy said with confidence, “and I know you would not send him to Orlais unless he could do his duty.” The Arishok nodded once.  
  
“There is no shame in feeling concern for your friend, just remember you have your own role.” He said and Ivy nodded, giving him a quick kiss before standing to return to her work.  


The letter from Iron Bull echoed in her head as she bundled together Spindleweed and hung it to dry in her tent. For two years she hadn’t heard from him and the first communication was short and filled her with worry. She vaguely knew of the connection of Orlais and the eventual forming of the Chargers, Iron Bull’s mercenary troupe, but the details of it escaped her.

She was finding it harder now to remember the smaller details, it had been so long since she arrived in Par Vollen. The large, eventful moments were easier to remember of course, but if she was asked for a specific moment of time she would struggle to recall it. It worried her, _if_ she made it to Haven, _if_ she survived long enough and could find her way there, it would be likely that her reputation as a Seer would follow her, especially if the gossip of Kirkwall was as prevalent as it seemed to be. And if they came to her asking for her knowledge she would want to help, but only be able to give vague moments of time with no timeline. At least she could still have independent visions, and it was getting much easier to control, she could retain a sort of usefulness with her ability.

She laughed at herself and shook her head, it was so easy now to measure her worth by her visions, because in this violent world if you didn’t have an advantage you would likely end up dead on the street. She knew what her advantage was now, protection from the Qunari in exchange of her services as a Seer. Had she fell into Thedas as a normal person, she had no doubt that she would be dead. But if the Arishok dies, would that protection go? She had no intention of returning to Par Vollen, but had no-one outside of the Arishok to actively protect her from the harsh reality of this world. Cullen offered her to join the Templars, but that was far too dangerous, especially with the Knight-Commander ramping up her insanity. And even if she defected from the Qunari, the rest of Kirkwall would still see her as a Qunari conspirator, joining the Templars would probably be too public – they wouldn’t have her, they wouldn’t risk it.

Ivy paused in her work and let her hands shake as she leaned against the bench, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand she let out a shaking breath. No matter which way she looked at it, she was going to have to make the leap to survive on her own. The sound of a throat clearing just outside her tent broke her out of her thoughts and she called for whoever it was to enter.

Two Sten paused and glanced around her tent, unsure of the clutter of herbs and jars despite the effort of building shelving for their human Seer. Ivy paused in her work to look up at them expectantly, she didn’t have to ask why they were there, she knew they would get to the point as soon as possible.  
  
“Seer,” the first one began, leaving his broken-horned partner to stand silently beside him, “we have concerns in regards to your conduct with the Arishok.”  
  
“Then you should address the Arishok.” Ivy said icily, letting her displeasure be known. “If there is nothing else I would like to continue with my work.” The Sten exchanged a glance before the broken-horned one stepped forward.  
  
“His actions of late have not been in line with the Qun, if we were in Par Vollen-”  
  
“If we were in Par Vollen we would not be festering in this compound, left to wait on others to decide our fate.” Ivy snapped and rounded on the Sten, they may have been taller than her but she refused to let them intimidate her. “In Par Vollen we would be supported by our people instead of vilified by an _entire_ city and it has only been through the guidance of the Arishok that you have been allowed to pursue your true purpose here.” She squared her shoulders and gave them each a level glare. “Or would you have him surrender the relic to the Bas and run back to Par Vollen.”  
  
“It is not the Arishok’s guidance that we are disagreeing with.” The first Sten said. “It is yours.” Ivy stared at the Sten and huffed incredulously.  
  
“Then I will repeat my first suggestion,” she said cooly, “you should address the Arishok, I’m sure he would be more than willing to hear any grievances you have.” They spared her a glare before silently walking out of her tent, leaving her to the sound of her own breathing and the feeling of repressed anger. She pressed her palm against her chest as if to still the pounding of her heart, if they thought she was manipulating the Arishok, what would they think if he died?  


She lay against the warmth of the Arishok, he was curled around her, fingers trailing patterns over her naked hips as they hid from the winter cold in a mass of furs.  
  
“You are not yourself.” He rumbled quietly and let his hand drag up higher to circle around her navel. “Perhaps it was the two Sten voicing their doubts today?” Ivy rolled to face him, his dark eyes raking over her in concern.  
  
“You knew about that?” Ivy asked in surprise.  
  
“You informed them to address me on the matter and they did.” The Arishok stated. “I assuaged their concerns, they will not voice such opinions again.”  
  
“But they will continue to think it.” Ivy said quietly and he cupped her cheek, running the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. “Is it because I’m, you know, _sharing your bed?”_ he smiled at her and shook his head.  
  
“We set off from Par Vollen with the mind that we would catch the thief in a matter of weeks, our ships were faster, our navigators smarter, but did not imagine that we would be caught off guard by the ferocity of that storm.” He spoke and gazed at her skin, tracing from freckle to freckle on her shoulder. “Our arrogance allowed the thief to hide in this city, and what would have merely been a month turned into years. The Sten are restless, they want to go home but know they cannot until we find the Tome. They know we are doing the right thing, but cannot voice frustration in a way to be heard so they warp their fears, change its direction to claim that _you_ are leading us astray. Were I not an Arishok, they would have come to me first, but you are equal to the Sten and they fear you less, thus they come to you in anger.” He rolled onto his back, propping his head on a padded block which allowed him to lie on his back by elevating his head and keeping his horns from being damaged on the ground. As he did he pulled Ivy with him, settling her to straddle his hips and rest against his chest like a contented cat.  
  
“The Sten see that you share my bed, yes, they may come to the conclusion that I am misguided, but they are wrong. You are my Kadan, and that means something far different to what they can see.” He said before he flipped open a box that sat on a low table near the tent wall, pulling out of it a leather cord with what looked like a large metal dipped tooth pendant.  “There is a legend among the Qunari that we were born of dragons, that our ferocity and strength is what remains of the dragon blood in our veins. It is customary to split a dragon’s tooth between two lovers, so that even as we part we will be together.” Ivy blushed a little as he looped the necklace around her neck, tying it in place easily.  
  
“You killed a dragon?” Ivy asked, as she picked up the tooth to examine it, the base of the tooth had been covered in metal and delicate patterns were carved into it, it had indeed been cut in half lengthways, the back of it covered in metal to protect the fibres of the tooth from eroding. Even cut in half, the tooth was as thick as her finger.  
  
“When I was very young.” The Arishok said with a prideful smile. “In the jungles of Seheron. It killed half my squad, freezing them on the spot with it’s icy breath.” He held up a second, identical necklace and offered it to her with one finger, she took it from him and leaned forward to tie it around his neck, he watched her with pride as she did, kissing her deeply as their pendants clinked together ominously.

Ivy had moved her necklace to be wrapped around her wrist, not that she didn’t want anyone to see it, more that the leather cord was an awkward length, the tooth getting lost in her cleavage and becoming irritating. So she wrapped the long leather around her wrist and tucked the tooth to be secured on the top. It was definitely noticed, however, in the baths she gathered a few stares from the Sten, she returned their blatant stares and they looked to each other in their silent conversation. And when patching up a clumsy elf she got a handful of questions from the Viddithari which she answered in grunts, all the while thinking she had been living among Qunari too long if her conversations were just becoming inarticulate noises. She wondered what Iron Bull would think of it, if he would be disapproving or just warn her to be cautious, she took a second to wonder if he had felt anything for her or if it was just the overwhelming circumstances, surely if he had felt anything for her, he would have tried to contact her sooner – or maybe he couldn’t without risking his own safety?

An early Summer morning saw her in the training yard, facing off with a Sten wielding a spear, she had her staff ready, blocking his incoming attacks smoothly. She was happy with her progress in the last year, and definitely from when she first arrived in Thedas – when she couldn’t even punch properly. The Sten was attacking her ferociously, not giving her a moment to break through his offense and wearing her down as she spun out of the way to avoid being cornered by him, sweat dripping down her forehead and back she dodged another blow, barely scraping past the tip of his spear. They didn’t use wooden training weapons, it was a weakness to, but in honesty the wooden training weapons would have done quite a bit of damage anyway.

The Sten lunged forward, jabbing at her with the shaft of the spear and striking her lower lip, Ivy’s head snapped back, feeling her lip split between the wood and her teeth before the Sten stepped behind her foot and knocked her onto her back. The match was over, the rule being that once blood was drawn the winner was decided but before she could gather her senses the Sten was rearing back with the point of his spear, before forcefully striking at her, narrowly missing her neck as she jerked out of the way. The tip of the spear chipped the stonework beneath her as she looked up at the Sten in astonishment, an expressionless rage emanating from him, the sharp sting of a cut was fading on her neck and she knew he had nicked her. He nearly killed her, had she not jerked away she would have died.

Angry shouts roared from the small audience and two Sten charged forward to pull the offending one away, another kneeling by Ivy to check if she was injured. She waved him away, not needing the assistance and he leapt to join the other two Sten who were struggling to hold back the one who tried to kill her.  
  
“ _Basra_!” he screamed at her, his teeth baring in a snarl before the Sten punched him, snapping his head to the side and rendering him unconscious.

To say that the Arishok was angry was an understatement. When Ivy was taken to him on the far side of the compound along with the unconscious Sten his expression grew so dangerously blank that Ivy felt fear crawl up her spine. He had ordered her to go to his tent, under double the guard which meant there were two outside the tent and another two watching her pace restlessly inside the tent. A scream broke out over the compound and she knew it would have been the Sten’s, it jolted her, a scream of pure pain followed by sickening snap that echoed through the silently still compound.  
  
“What is happening?” Ivy asked the Sten who were guarding her inside, they glanced to each other before shaking their heads. Whatever it was they were either not allowed to tell her or thought that they shouldn’t. Another wailing scream and another snap and Ivy felt her stomach turn, even if the Sten tried to kill her, she wasn’t sure it justified whatever was happening out there.  
  
“Is he killing him?” She asked the Sten, eyes wide with fear and the Sten gave her a measured glare.  
  
“Death would be kinder.” He simply said before finding something more interesting to stare at along the edges of the room.  


The compound was eerily silent as the Arishok entered the tent half an hour after the screaming had stopped, with a wave of his hand he dismissed the Sten who left quickly. He walked over to a bowl of water and washed his hands, ignoring Ivy’s worried stare as he washed away the remnants of blood from his knuckles. Ivy took a deep breath, her voice uncertain as she spoke.  
  
“Arishok-” she was cut off as he swung and hit the metal bowl, sending it and the water flying with a clatter, Ivy’s hands flew to her mouth, smothering the scream that began in her throat. He stared at where the bowl once was, his hands resting on the table in fists as he fought to control is laboured breathing.  
  
“That Sten,” he said in a quivering voice, barely holding back anger in his words, “had been unwavering in his loyalty for decades. His commitment to the Qun was an example for all others and today I had to break his horns and banish him.” He looked to Ivy who was shaking, shrinking against the bookshelf. “He thought me blind, that you were conspiring against us.” He walked to her slowly and her heart pounded, the blood rushing in her ears. “That I could not see how close you had become to the Bas in this city, your Templar and the mercenaries.” He reached up to lean against the bookshelf, crowding over her with his body, intimidating with his size. “Am I blind?” he asked her and she shook her head, her hands still firmly planted on her mouth.

He sighed and straightened, gently taking a hold of her wrists and pulling them away from her mouth, he raised the wrist that had the dragon’s tooth wrapped around it and pressed it to his lips.  
  
“I had to make an example of my best Sten, lest the others think me weak.” He said bitterly before cupping her cheek and raising it to meet his dark eyes. “But I would kill them all if they intended you harm.” He pulled her close, softly stroking her back as her shaking gave way to silent tears. “You will not leave my side, Kadan. Not until we are home.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Arishok, do not do this.” She pleaded through tears that streaked down her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW.

She had thought he was exaggerating, an overreaction to the obvious turmoil they were in, but she was wrong. From the moment he returned after banishing the Sten who attacked her she was not permitted to leave him. Her belongings were moved to his tent and her tent given to the healers to use as a workshop for creating the poultices and potions they needed, they were ordered to make a surplus of elfroot potions and Ivy knew the amount would be enough to supply the compound for months – or support an army for a few days.

She offered to take the surplus herbs to the Kirkwall Circle and was denied, she was no longer permitted to leave the compound without the Arishok and he had no intention of walking the ‘ _filthy Bas riddled streets’._ She was not even permitted to send a communication to Hawke, after she told him to find the relic her purpose was apparently fulfilled and, in the eyes of her increasingly paranoid lover, had no reason to pursue a dialog with any Bas.

Ivy watched as the Sten trained harder, forged armour and weapons, practiced leaping over the stone and spikes of the compound walls and grew in their ferocity with every day. Her heart sank knowing that they were preparing for war. She was running out of time.

When the Arishok permanently closed the compound to merchants on the anniversary of their third year in Kirkwall Ivy truly began to panic. She managed to hold in her fears until she was alone with him, but once she got the chance to speak she couldn’t hold back.  
  
“Why close the gates?” She blurted out as he sat and drank his tea, she paced before him and he watched her calmly. “We have come so far, why alienate us now?”  
  
“We have no need of outside interference.” He said flatly. “Our people must focus solely on the Qun and we have more than enough resources to allow this.” She stopped her pacing and looked at him, his straight back and calm demeanour showed just how right he thought himself, he stared her down as he sipped the tea, confident in himself and she had the urge to slap the cup from him.  
  
“A war is not the way to go about this.” She said quietly and shook her head, he raised his eyebrow and gestured for her to come closer, raking his claws through her hair gently as she knelt beside him.  
  
“A vision.” He assumed and she shook her head, her gaze landing on his necklace and she reached out to touch it idly.  
  
“I am not as foolish as I was. I know you are preparing the Sten for a war, even though you have ordered silence about it in my presence.” She said and he smiled tightly, somewhat happy that she was observant. “This is not the place to do so, we will not win this.” She pleaded with him and he gave her a measuring look.  
  
“You underestimate the strength of your brothers and sisters,” he lectured, “but you have not seen our armies in action as I have.”  
  
“ _Kadan, please.”_ She begged and he urged her to sit on his lap, letting him look into her eyes easier and raise his hands to cup her face gently. He looked at her with a concerned and loving expression, but behind it was the usual determination.  
  
“I know it is out of fear that you ask me to go against the will of the Qun.” He said softly, bumping his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes. “I do not hold such things against you, it is merely something which you must overcome.”   
  
“I don’t want to lose you.” She admitted and hated herself for saying, she was crazy to want to stay with him, his temper and volatile emotions a clear indication to run away. But as he grazed his lips against hers, pausing for a moment before kissing her deeply her reservations were pushed away and a need arose to replace it, a need to keep him from death.  
  
“You make me happy, Kadan,” he rasped as his hands began to wander along her skin, “but that happiness cannot continue if I do not do my duty.” His hands gripped her hips tightly as if to anchor her to him and she reached up to run her fingers along the base of his horns gently, coaxing a strangled moan from his throat as he ground his hips upwards, letting her know he was more than happy with the attention. He leaned in and kissed along her neck, her eyes closing against her will and her sour mood ebbing away under the feel of his lips.   
  
“I want to take you back to Par Vollen.” She said and leaned back as he tugged at the fabric of her shirt, urging her to shed it, the long fabric unravelling as she dropped it and the skin of her breasts tightening from the sudden chill of the air. He smirked smugly, his hands squeezing and he watched her possessively. “With the relic we could do so without spilling blood.” He growled and leaned forward, kissing tentatively at the flesh before biting gently, but regardless of how gentle he was his teeth were still pointed and sharp, making her gasp at the slight pain.  
  
“It is not just the relic anymore.” He groaned and flicked his tongue against her before she slid off his lap, crawling backwards and reaching for the leather tie of his pants. Leaning back on one arm he used his free hand to hook his thumb into the waistband and pushed down, exposing his length to her before reaching to gently tangle his fingers in her hair, the pad of his thumb running along her lower lip in anticipation.  
  
“What else could it be?” she asked before laving her tongue along the shaft of his erection slowly, eliciting a growl as he restrained himself from bucking up, only allowing a twitch of his hips.   
  
“You talk too much.” He teased with a smile before strengthening the grip on her hair and directing her mouth back to a better purpose. She couldn’t take all of him into her mouth, hell she struggled just with the girth, but she had hands and used them effectively as she licked and sucked to a chorus of growls and groans all the while his grip subtly directed her to what he wanted.

Soon he pulled her off, his breathing controlled and deep for a moment before he stood and picked her up, carrying her the short distance past the gossamer curtain to his furs, her giggling bringing a smile to his face. He lay down on his back, roughly shoving the padded block under his head before pulling her hips down to straddle him. His fingers brushed her sex and he smirked, feeling her arousal and she grinned, leaning forward to kiss him.   
  
“What can I say?” She teased. “I like hearing you voice your pleasure.” His laugh rumbled in his chest but didn’t escape his lips as his tight grip on her hips pushed her down, the head of his cock entering her as he groaned and tensed beneath her. She held back a whimpering moan, each time they had been together before now he had always _helped_ her prepare for his size but he didn’t this time. She was about to suggest a different course of action when she noticed his expression, his usually intense stare was gone, his eyes closed and brow furrowed as he bit his lower lip in concentration. His muscles so taught that he was arching up off the furs slightly and a slight keening growl was escaping his throat in a long whine. She smiled at the sight of her stoic Arishok struggling with his control, and shifted her angle to allow for more pressure, taking him in slowly a part of the way before pulling back and starting again. He gasped and bucked under her and Ivy had a curious thought, gently she reached forwards and stroked the base of one of his horns, putting enough pressure into the action to massage and he instantly reacted, arching up and letting out an almost roar of pleasure.  
  
“ _Parshaara._ ” He demanded her to stop and she reluctantly did but not without riding him harder. Shaking beneath her his hands flexed on her hips in an attempt to regain control but she wouldn’t allow it, instead she pushed on, her hands splayed wide on his chest as they rocked and panted to their own rhythm, moments later he was spilling inside of her, growling as he bit his lip and heart pounding under her hands.

She smiled and kissed his forehead as he blinked up at her lazily, climbing off him she went to stand before his arm slid around her waist and pulled her to be flush against his body.  
  
“We’re not done.” He rumbled and curled onto his side, his hand making its way between her legs to lavish attention on her until she was squirming and moaning into his kiss as she came.  
  


She was sleepily running her hands through the fur, thinking about how much of a chore it would be to get bodily fluids out of the animal pelt when the Arishok sat back at his desk and returned to his work.   
  
“We didn’t finish our conversation.” Ivy said before trying to stifle a yawn, he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“If you remember it then I clearly did not distract you enough.” He said with a smile before picking up a missive from his desk, his full attention now on his paperwork.  
  


She was dozing off when a Sten walked into the tent, announcing that a Templar had arrived at the compound. Ivy remained still, knowing that the Arishok would be watching for her reaction through the transparent curtain, when satisfied that she was either asleep or uncaring he nodded to the Sten.

Ivy remained on the furs, shifting some to hide her nudity since her clothing had been abandoned on the other side of the tent, unless she was called over she had no reason to stand and join into whatever conversation would occur. She felt like a cat watching the world go by as Cullen was directed into the tent, stopping short of the Arishok’s desk and bowing in respect.  
  
“Knight-Captain.” The Arishok said formally. “How may I assist?”  
  
“I am here in regards to the trade between your people and the Kirkwall Circle,” Cullen answered just as formally, “trading has ceased and my superior has asked that I try to assuage any concerns you may have so we may trade again.” The Arishok stared at the Templar in thought and Cullen met the giant’s stare for every second.  
  
“And it is within the scope of your duties to undertake such small tasks? Surely you should be more concerned with the security of your charges and the training of your soldiers.” The Arishok said and Cullen nodded briskly.  
  
“My duties are as designated by the Knight-Commander.” Cullen said and risked a glance around the room, noticing the pile of burgundy fabric on the ground. “And we feel it is important to maintain a positive relationship between our cultures.”  
  
“Your superior has never attempted to contact us before, if it were so important she would have sent an emissary before now.” The Arishok stood, his bulk almost making Cullen look like a child. “We have been here for years, why is it all of a sudden important? And if so important, why has she not come herself?” He gestured at Ivy, a quick crook of his finger to demand her presence by his side. She stood and covered as much of herself with the fur as she could, even if it was just her front at least it was something.

She stepped out and stood beside the Arishok, clutching the fur to herself confidently. Cullen noticed her as she approached and averted his gaze instantly in politeness.  
  
“Seer,” he said awkwardly, “perhaps I have come at a bad time.”  
  
“No,” the Arishok replied, “your intention was to ascertain the safety of my Seer. You will ask your questions and then you will leave.” He demanded and Cullen took the chance to look over Ivy, subtly searching for injuries.  
  
“Are you well?” Cullen asked simply.  
  
“Yes.” Ivy replied formally.  
  
“You haven’t come to trade for months.”  
  
“There will be no more trade, Knight-Captain.” She said flatly and past Cullen’s blank military expression she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes.   
  
“If that is your decision.” He said carefully and the Arishok sat at his desk again.  
  
“It is.” The Arishok drawled. “Now leave.” Cullen bowed again, glancing to Ivy who would not meet his eyes before he turned and left.  
  


Months passed in seclusion and the day came quietly that Hawke arrived at the compound with Aveline arguing among themselves. The Arishok had let them enter and Ivy stood beside his makeshift throne, her hands clasped in front of her somewhat nervously. The two were accompanied by four city guards in full armour, Aveline clearly leading the group instead of Hawke.

The Arishok stood, hefting his war axe over his shoulder. All the Qunari were battle ready now, had been for a week, their skin painted with red lines and their armour on. The Arishok was also ready, his large red pauldrons strapped on.  
  
“Shanedan.” He said to the group and Aveline charged to the front, getting to the point of their visit without the preamble of political politeness.  
  
“Arishok,” Aveline began, “we have come in regards to the elvhen fugitives who took refuge here.”  
  
“Irrelevant.” He said looking to Hawke. “I would speak to Hawke of the relic stolen from my grasp.” He said angrily and Hawke glanced to Ivy with worry. Her heart pounded as the Arishok descended the stairs.  
  
“That is an issue for another time.” Aveline said, gesturing her hand as if to cut the Arishok off from the topic of the relic. “We’re here for the fugitives.”  
  
“They have chosen to submit to the Qun,” the Arishok spoke without compromise. “They will be protected.”  
  
“Have they truly converted, or are they using you as a shield?” Hawke asked almost curiously, he seemed like he didn’t care about the Elvhen Viddithari committing crimes.  
  
“They have chosen.” The Arishok turned and looked to Ivy, meeting her eyes with a hard and determined gaze. “And so have I.” Ivy’s breath caught in her throat and she stepped forward only to have her path blocked by the javelin of a Sten who glared at her in warning. The Arishok walked up the stairs, his metal plate boots making a frightening sound against the stone. “Your society is a disease.” He said to the humans without looking at them. “I cannot leave without the relic, and I cannot stay and remain blind to such dysfunction. There is only one solution.”   
  
“Ari-” Ivy began before the Sten’s hand clapped over her mouth tightly to silence her, the point of his javelin now resting on her stomach, not harming but serving as a warning. Aveline and Hawke glanced to her, seeming somewhat startled as Ivy reached up and tried to pry the unmoving hand from her face.  
  
“Arishok,” Aveline held up her hand in a pleading fashion, “there is no need to-” The Arishok held up one finger and shushed Aveline with that action alone.  
  
“Vinek kathas.” The Arishok ordered and his Sten hoisted their javelin, throwing them from the walls down to the humans gathered below them. A guard was struck through the chest with a spray of blood and a gurgling scream, Hawke and Aveline drawing their swords as they began to back away. Ivy watched on as the javelin rained down on the group, killing two more guards were killed as they retreated. Aveline yelled at Hawke to move faster as they were being cut down. Hawke looked shocked, confused by how quickly the situation turned bad, he spared one last look to Ivy before retreating to the streets of Kirkwall.  
  


The Arishok stopped in front of Ivy looking down at her unhappily.   
  
“Ready the army. Two minutes.” He ordered the Sten who was silencing Ivy and he nodded, letting her go and running down the stairs calling for them to mobilise. Ivy sunk to her knees as he let her go, holding back the sobs that threatened to break past her tight throat, shaking her head she looked up to the Arishok. He knelt, and it seemed it would have been almost impossible in his armour but he did so easily, his calloused finger reaching up to tuck away her curls in the same gesture he did so often.   
  
“Even if Hawke got the relic,” Ivy rasped as she met his eyes, “you would have still attacked them?” he smiled tightly at her, almost pitying but she had never seen him show pity and wouldn’t dare think he could start now.  
  
“You lack faith in the Qun.” He said as if it were fact. “I thought it an error on my part, that I made a mistake to let the Ben-Hassrath spend so much time with you, he had always been far too willful. But the longer we stayed here the more I saw your doubt.” He helped her stand and the breeze whipped around them, her small hands engulfed by his large ones.  
  
“I don’t understand.” Her voice broke as she spoke and the roar of the Sten steadily grew as they prepared to attack the city.  
  
“It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important.” He spoke as if it were a quote directly from the Qun. “There are none more important than you, but I cannot bring you back to Par Vollen while you harbour such doubt.” The Sten were marching to them, stopping in formation at the base of the stairs followed by Viddithari who were also armed and ready. He gestured to them, as if they were a gift for her. “By seizing this city, not only will we create order and peace from corruption but we will have a foothold in the Free Marches, from here the Qun will spread like wildfire and you will bear witness to its strength and righteousness.”  
  
“My _faith?_ ” Ivy couldn’t believe what he was saying, that something so trivial could have sparked his decision for war. “That doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
“Had we returned to Par Vollen it would have been a matter of days before you were taken by the re-educators regardless of your abilities, or my love for you. It would not have been in my power to stop them.” The Arishok straightened his back, aware of being watched by his men, but the resolve shone in his eyes as he looked down on Ivy, his expression almost echoing the pain he felt at the prospect of losing her to the laws of the Qun. “The risk that you would return to me broken is too high, I cannot allow this to happen. I will _not_ allow it.”  
  
“You cannot base such a decision on what could happen to one person, regardless of who they are to you.” Ivy said, a sick feeling building in her stomach as she realised just how far he had gone from his core beliefs, an already primal man breaking free of the restrictive tenets of his culture, a man with an army and fanatical passion. “ _Mastery of the self is mastery of the world,”_ Ivy quoted the Qun as she watched the Sten finish forming their ranks, they were a mass of grey and red, formidable and ready to let their rage be felt across Kirkwall, “ _loss of the self is the source of suffering. Suffering is a choice and we can refuse it.”_ The Arishok scoffed at her.  
  
“I am not lost." He snarled. "My purpose is clear.”  
  
“Arishok, do not do this.” She pleaded through tears that streaked down her cheeks. “Please do not wage war here.”  
  
“ _It is in our own power to create the world, or destroy it.”_ He threw the last verse in her face, rage pouring from every word. “This abhorrent, corrupt city is an insult to the Qun. These Bas will kneel or they will die.” He gripped her chin roughly, crushing his lips against hers. “And you my Seer, my Kadan. You will witness our victory as we herald in a new age.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Step aside, Seer.” He said, intending to deal the death blow.

In a surreal mocking of her dreams the city burned. The Qunari seemed unconcerned with the buildings inside of the city walls, as long as the fortifications and the important buildings such as the docks and barracks were intact. The Qunari spread through the streets like a rush of water, finding no obstacles aside from the city guards since the Templars were yet to mobilize and Ivy was swept along with the current. Her armour was constricting, the burden of it echoed by the staff she held, and each blow she dealt in her own defence felt sickening and wrong.

The Arishok revelled in the glory of his soon-to-be-victory, cutting down groups of guards with his massive axe. He led the charge, ensuring none of his soldiers harmed the civilians as long as they didn’t resist and soon enough they broke down the door to the Viscount’s palace. Nobles who had gathered there during the chaos screamed and scuttled away as the Arishok marched into the palace with his men, cutting down the few guards who remained between him and the simpering Viscount who stood at the top of the stairs.

The Viscount pleaded, negotiated and tried to bribe the Arishok but it was all for nothing as the Arishok’s axe separated his head from his body. The nobles who had been corralled into the centre of the room shrieked and dived away as the Arishok threw the Viscount’s head into the crowd, the crown bouncing away to the corner of the room with a clatter.  
  
“You _dare?_ ” A nobleman stepped forward from the crowd, his sneering mouth framed by a goatee. “You are starting a war!” he exclaimed without noticing the Sten who stepped up behind him and snapped his neck easily with a sickening sound, letting the now dead nobleman drop to the floor.  
  
“Look at you,” the Arishok addressed the fearful crowd, “you feed and feed and complain only when your meal is interrupted.” The nobles looked to each other uncertainly, some looking for an escape. “You do not look up, you do not see that the grass is bare, all you leave in your wake is misery. _You are blind.”_ He roared to the fearful crowd. _“I will make you see.”_

The smaller doors which led to the internal chambers they stood in opened with a bang and Hawke strode in, his companions in tow. The Arishok watched him approach, greeting him with a nod of his head. Although Hawke failed his mission for the Qunari, it was still recognised that he had been of service and that earned him a chance in the Arishok’s eyes.  
  
“Tell me how you intend to resolve this conflict without the Tome of Koslun, Hawke.” The Arishok demanded to know before the grunts of a fight were heard outside the doors, the Arishok and Hawke looked to the entry to see a Sten being knocked back and Isabela walking in holding the relic. She stepped on the Sten as she approached, arrogant in her demeanour.   
  
“I believe _I_ can answer that.” Isabela announced and sauntered to Hawke and the Arishok, handing the large book to the Qunari. “You’ll find it _mostly_ intact.”

The Arishok ran his hand over the Tome of Koslun, the very object he had be chasing for years, the one thing he needed before he could return to Par Vollen. It was old and large, the cover an intricate mix of leather and metal, just on its own without the cultural value it was a beautiful thing. The Arishok carefully handed it to a Sten who took it with reverence and a spark of hope fluttered in Ivy’s chest, perhaps seeing the relic would inspire him to return without further chaos?  
  
“It took me a while to get back, what with the fighting everywhere.” Isabela said to Hawke offhandedly. He looked at her in disbelief, his face contorting angrily.  
  
“You _betrayed_ me!” He yelled at her, she looked surprised that her selfish actions upset him.  
  
“That is a bit dramatic.” She scolded him and Ivy huffed incredulously.  
  
“As dramatic as your entry?” Ivy jibed at Isabela. “Had you considered anything else but your own selfishness, all of this could have been prevented.” Hawke and Isabela looked at Ivy in surprise, likely unaware of her presence in the chaos.  
  
“The thief comes with us.” The Arishok stated and Hawke nodded, Ivy could see Isabela’s expression change from smug to a smug concern, she didn’t believe that Hawke would turn her over to the Arishok.  
  
“Agreed.” Hawke said without a pause which shocked the pirate, she looked at him incredulously and backed away as the Sten approached her.  
  
“ _What?_ I came here to _help_.” She yelled at Hawke who shrugged in return.  
  
“You _are_ helping.” He calmly replied, watching without emotion as they took her away, fighting against the Sten as she was dragged out of the chamber.  
  
" _This_ is what I get for loving you?" She screamed at him and Hawke shook his head.  
  
"No, it's what you get for abandoning us." He replied and she was dragged from the room.  
  
“A wise choice, Hawke. You have proven yourself basalit-an. Worthy of respect.” The Arishok claimed and Hawke nodded in begrudging thanks. “I will give you the choice to join the Qun as we bring order to this infected city.”  
  
“Join you?” Hawke said in surprise and looked to Ivy, she couldn’t muster enough energy or care to fake looking surprised, not that she needed to. “I thought you just needed the Relic?” The Arishok followed Hawke’s gaze to Ivy, calculating in his stare.  
  
“The Seer can only predict the future, even she can be mistaken. That is the folly of such a gift, the slightest word can alter any outcome.” He explained slowly and looked at Hawke expectantly, waiting for his answer and not willing to give much time to the human.  
  
“I-” Hawke swallowed thickly, glancing at his companions who were all minutely shaking their heads. “I cannot.”  
  
“A pity.” The Arishok rumbled before turning to Ivy, taking a step to be in front of her, he gave her an odd expression, somewhere between regret and _the Bas must be killed_. There was no doubt that the Arishok had respect for Hawke, claiming that he was Basalit-an was high praise from the Kossith but Ivy knew it was not going to be enough to dissuade the Arishok’s plan. However, had Ivy not interfered, had she not try to change the fate of Kirkwall, maybe that begrudging respect would have been enough.  
  
“I challenge you.” Hawke exclaimed and the Arishok paused, meeting Ivy’s stare while responding to Hawke.  
  
“Interesting. What are the conditions you propose?”   
  
“I win and you leave, take some boats from the docks I don’t care, but you leave peacefully.” Hawke said warily. “You win, well, I cannot stop you.” The Arishok raised his hand to touch gently at Ivy’s cheek. She silently held his gaze, urging him with her mind and soul to reject and _leave._ But she knew his honour and knew he could not turn down the challenge without going against some skewed version of his duty.  
  
“I accept.” He said and pulled away, the feel of his fingertips lingering on her skin as Ivy’s head lowered in defeat.  
  


Hawke was strong, no doubt, protected by his plate armour and able to carry it with little hindrance to his movements and as he swung at the Arishok the Qunari had to recalculate his approach, he hadn’t counted on Hawke being so agile. But Hawke hadn’t counted on the reach of the Arishok’s axe, and with each swing Hawke had to throw himself back to avoid the weapon, not even a well-made shield could withstand the ferocity of the Arishok’s attacks.

Hawke’s companions watched on wearily, twitching and jumping each time Hawke came too close to injury or death.  
  
“Do not interfere.” Fenris warned them. “It will mean the challenge forfeit and they will cut us down.” Aveline sidled up to Ivy and hissed at her.  
  
“Can’t you _do_ something?” Ivy looked at Aveline in defeat, everything she had tried to do up to this point was for nothing, she only made the situation worse. If he hadn’t done anything the Arishok would have left with Isabela, happy that the demand of the Qun was satisfied. But now he was preparing to stage a war beyond Kirkwall.  
  
“I’ve done enough.” Ivy said sadly, turning back to watch Hawke duck and weave as he began to tire, the Arishok still strong and unrelenting.

A scream echoed through the chamber – Hawke’s shoulder had been injured, blood seeping through the joins of his armour. The Arishok laughed and surged forward, his strike barely being parried by Hawke’s sword. Hawke stumbled backwards and it seemed some kind of resolve grew in him, taking a calm breath he waited until the Arishok attacked again, but instead of backing away he rolled into it, leaving the Arishok’s chest wide open for Hawke’s sword to slide into.

With a gasp from the crowd they watched as the Arishok dropped his axe, blood rushing out of his mouth in a splutter. Hawke pulled his sword out, stepping back as the Arishok stumbled, dropping to one knee before falling onto his back. Ivy rushed forward, her staff ready and put herself between Hawke and the Arishok. Hawke looked at her in exhausted confusion.  
  
“Step aside, Seer.” He said, intending to deal the death blow.  
  
“You have won, Hawke.” She said angrily. “The Qunari will leave tonight.” He stared at her for a moment, debating whether to push it before nodding once. The crowd breathed a sigh of relief before erupting into a cheer, but it was all white noise to Ivy as she knelt by her fallen lover, her hand shaking as she examined his wound. It was fatal, there was no way she could save him.

“Kada-” he tried to speak but she shushed him, smiling as she cupped his face. Her tears flowed freely as he tried to lift his hand to her and failed.  
  
“Forgive me, Kadan.” She said and leaned down to kiss him, uncaring of the blood that smeared on her face.  
  
“Seer?” A Sten asked, unsure of their next move, she glanced around the crowd and saw their faces growing angry, they were a moment away from forming a mob and metering their own justice on the remaining Sten and their pet Seer. One stepped forward in a rush wielding a dagger and aiming for her, without hesitation she used her staff to disarm him and strike his head, rendering him unconscious. She stood in front of the Arishok’s dying body and the Sten, her staff ready and heart pounding.  
  
“Take him to the ships, leave as soon as you are aboard with the relic.” She ordered and the Sten moved quickly, four of them lifting the Arishok as gentle and quickly as they could. “Engage with no one and head straight for Par Vollen.”  
  
“You will follow Seer?” A Sten asked in concern, glancing to the rapidly angering crowd as Hawke urged them to calm. One threw a heavy, round object and Ivy swatted it to the ground with her staff.  
  
“I will ensure you get to the boats safely.” She said as she tripped another bold noble. “Leave now!” The Sten nodded once and rushed after the group, Ivy backed towards the door, holding off the crowd until the Qunari were a safe distance away.  
  


Ivy kept watch from the alleyways, avoiding citizens and the Templars who had arrived moments after she had left, she managed to get a fleeting glimpse of Cullen, formidable and frightening in his full armour as they engaged the mob of nobles- not attacking but pacifying them through their presence. Her chest tightened for a moment, thinking of another friend she was about to leave behind but she gathered her resolve. There was no chance of her staying in the city safely, even with Hawke and Cullen to aid her, she had to leave – and leave now.

She followed the Sten to the docks, watching from a safe distance as they commandeered a ship, the rest of the army joining them after the Arishok’s ship had cast off. As they boarded she could see a healer applying pressure to the Arishok’s chest but it would have been for nothing, the location of the wound, the rate of blood loss – even if the sword hadn’t injured the heart muscle the Arishok would have bled out before reaching the docks. She watched as the ship slipped from view, the Arishok’s body limp in the middle of the deck on top of some crates. She thought a silent non-descript prayer for him before wrenching herself away from the sight, she couldn’t think about him anymore, she strived to leave for years and even though it came in the worst way possible it came. She was not going to waste this chance. In total four ships were taken and the Qunari army left behind the burning chaos of Kirkwall.

She took the opportunity in the confusion to loot an unfortunate soldier, taking her cloak, sword and shoes. Ducking into an alleyway she wrapped the cloak around her and slipped on the boots- they were tight but bearable, the feeling of footwear foreign to her now. Reluctantly she propped her staff against the wall of a building, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to sneak around with it and that the soldiers in Kirkwall generally didn’t carry staves. She may not have been as good with a sword as she was with the staff but now wasn’t the time to fight, it was the time to hide. The sword securely fastened around her hips she pulled the hood up, prayed that no one would see the markings on her skin in the darkness and stepped out into the streets, jogging for the side gate that would give her access to the western coast.

Her plan wasn’t overly great or well thought out, she was going to head west to Orlais and find some way to hide until they stopped searching for any Qunari conspirators, she knew it was going to be a long time before they stopped looking but she was going to be smart about it, take jobs to survive and keep moving. Eventually she may go to Haven, but if what she caused here was any indication of the consequences of her meddling it may be better to stay away, she wouldn’t be able to see her friends again, but even that might be for the best. She could just disappear, become an unremarkable face in Thedas and maybe even try to find a way home to Earth. Thinking of Earth hurt her head too much right now, it had been years since she fell through, was time linear between the two worlds? Had it been four years there also? If she made it back would she end up on the other side of the planet?  
  
“Stop it.” she scolded herself and ducked into a shadowed corner, letting her mind recalibrate to focus on what was needed to be done _now._ If she even could find a way back, she would deal with it then. Survival now, Earth later.

She jumped over a fallen market stall that had been abandoned when the Qunari attacked, small hessian bags of dried meat were scattered along the floor and she scooped some up quickly, tying them onto the belt of the sword scabbard before ducking into the darkness of another alleyway. She tried to feel good about the find, that she didn’t immediately have to worry about food, but the positivity didn’t come to her. Just a tightness in her chest as she thought about what she had caused, about who she had hurt. Her mind mocked her with images of the guards she struck down, the sounds of civilians screaming as their homes burned, the feel of the Arishok’s fingers against her cheek before he walked to his death. Despite the years of training to fight, she was never really told how to cope with war, she couldn’t fathom it in her safe suburb in a safe city back home. She felt weak in the face of it, that she should be able to do better, that she should have _done_ better, and she despised herself for it.

Head down and hood up she pushed away her emotions and continued to quietly jog through the streets, the gate coming into view she ducked into the shadow of a building, a couple of lone guards were still protecting the gate instead of trying to find any Qunari to engage. Two humans, one male and the other female, likely posted there to alert the bulk of their force in case reinforcements tried to enter the city. She glanced at the walls and they were all covered in spikes and too high to climb, remnants of the slave trade that first supported the city – it was just as important to keep the slaves in as keeping the enemies out - but the base of the walls were shadowed. She snuck away and backtracked around the buildings until she found a safe spot to dash from the cover of what looked like a blacksmith workshop to the shadow of the wall, holding her breath for luck as she darted across the open space. Safely there she crept towards the small gate, pausing and holding her breath as male guard scanned the area she was crouched in. She could hear them talk she was so close, barely inching forwards as they stood a few metres away.  
  
“Can’t hear the fighting anymore.” The woman said. “Guess the Templars showed up.”  
  
“We’ll never hear the end of that.” The man replied gruffly as Ivy rounded the corner of the gate, sticking to the shadows as she passed the wall and out of Kirkwall.  
  


Dawn broke and Ivy slumped into a small natural alcove high up in the rocky dunes of the coast. She was exhausted, filthy from stumbling through the dark and sore from the fight. Taking a moment she thought about what to do next, she should rest during the day, it would be safer to move at night but the day was still long. She wouldn’t get far doing that and it wouldn’t surprise her if whatever was left of the Kirkwall government ordered troops to patrol the outer lands in fear of a second Qunari attack. She took a deep, shuddering breath and covered her face in her hands. Now that she had stopped the reality was crashing on her again, she was woefully unprepared to start a new life in a foreign land _again._ Biting her lip she silently began to cry, she had no idea what she was doing.

Darkness fell shortly after she had woken up, she had somehow managed to sleep for the day in the small alcove with the dark brown cloak wrapped tight around her. She carefully peeked out, pushing aside the leaves of a spiky plant and checked for any patrols. Seeing none she crawled out and continued along the small rocky path, as long as she was headed west, she was happy with the direction.

The echoes of laughter jolted her and she ducked to crouch by a boulder, it was a deep, rumbling laughter that was getting closer and soon she could hear footsteps approaching along the path. She drew her sword, making herself small as she wedged between the boulder and a natural wall that was barely taller than her, with any luck they would pass by without noticing her in the darkness. She dared a glance and saw two Kossith walking along, one with a greatsword and the other with a spear. They had no bags with them, meaning they weren’t travelling a long distance and Ivy’s stomach churned anxiously, they were Tal’Vashoth.

They walked past her hiding spot, talking in low voices and Ivy felt a second of relief. That second was cut short as one stopped suddenly, looking around the area. They grumbled to each other and the Kossith with the spear took two steps to the side of the path, stopping barely a metre from where Ivy was crouching. She stayed completely still, hand covering her nose and mouth as she held her breath, fearful that he would hear her. The half-moon barely illuminated the area so as long as she remained still, as long as her movement didn’t catch his attention, he may not see her. The man grumbled, sticking his spear into the ground with a frighteningly loud sound before he began to fuss with his pants. His back to the path he grumbled at something his friend said to him before he began to relieve himself, the wet sound far too close for Ivy’s comfort.

He glanced around lazily as he pissed, eyes moving over the boulder she hid behind, passing before he frowned and looked back to the boulder. Her heart hammered in her chest, so much that she thought it would give her away. She warred with herself over staying still of making a break for it, she could get a couple of seconds on them before they would give chase and she _was_ fast, faster than a lot of the Qunari were. Her decision was made for her when the Kossith met her eyes, letting out a startled and angry yell as she sprinted from the safety of her boulder and down the path to the west.

They took chase and were steadily falling behind, their large weapons cumbersome as they shouted at her to stop. She pushed forward, barely able to make out her surroundings as she sprinted recklessly, her footsteps loud along the sandy rock. Noticing movement in front of her and no time to stop, a Kossith stepped out of the shadows and knocked her to the ground, her head hitting rock hard before she was rendered unconscious.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrown into the dirt she whimpered as her skin was grazed, a fist ramming into her cheek to ensure she was flattened on the ground. She raggedly coughed into the sand, the dust blowing away in a swirling huff.

She came to sluggishly and cracked her eyes open to see limestone dirt beneath her legs and hear the sound of wood crackling on a fire. Her hands were bound to whatever she leaned against – a tree if the scrape of bark against her forearms were anything to go by – and when she frowned she felt dried blood itch and pull at her skin.

She stayed as still as she could, listening to the sounds of the Tal’Vashoth camp. She couldn’t make out what the Kossith were saying, low mumbles and a huffed laugh every now and then, until the scraping of footsteps approached and she was harshly kicked on her thigh. She jerked, looking up at the Kossith who glared down at her, she met his eyes and kept them as he slowly crouched in front of her, a scar that ran across his cheekbone puckering his skin as he smirked.  
  
“Imagine my luck as the Arishok’s Seer wanders into our territory in the dark of night.” He drawled and ran a knuckle down her cheek, she leaned away from him, her nose scrunching in distaste and he slapped her with his open palm. Her face stung and eye watered from the blow as he frowned, holding his finger up in warning. “The only reason you’re still alive is because you have value.” He growled. “Pray that your Arishok feels you are worth the price we ask.” Ivy said nothing, instead breathed heavily as his eyes raked over her. He grinned evilly, a sly spread of sharp teeth, and his hand slowly came down to rest on her inner thigh just above the knee. He ran it along her skin slowly, sparking disgust in her stomach as the rough callouses of his hand scratched her. “Or perhaps we should keep you,” he growled and his fellow bandits laughed lazily from the far side of the fire, “see how true those stories are of you loving Kossith cock.”

In a flash of panic Ivy reared her leg back and kicked out, slamming her heel into the bandit’s crotch. As he curled over she kicked again, hitting him in the jaw. Snarling he lashed out and backhanded her face, blood arcing out from her mouth as her head snapped to the side. His companions were howling with laughter as he roared and lunged at her, only to be dragged back by another man. Her heart racing they dropped him by the campfire telling him not to worry and that Ivy would be hurting soon enough.

From what she could gather they sent a runner to the wall of Kirkwall, apparently their way of getting a ransom note across was to throw a rock with the note tied to it at the guards who patrolled the walls. Ivy felt her stomach clench, the only person who would consider coming to her rescue was dead and the Tal’Vashoth apparently hadn’t heard the news of the Qunari retreat yet. Anyone else who would bother coming to get her would hand her over to the Kirkwall guard – then she would be thrown into a cell to await a trial and likely execution.

They left her tied up through the day and only talked to her to taunt or hit her for whatever reason they had at the time and eventually the night fell. She remained tied to the tree, exhausted and aching all over, wishing she took Cullen up on his offer to join the Templars years ago.

Dawn broke again and the Tal’Vashoth awoke slowly, stoking the fire and tending to their weapons and armour. One had a shield that was looted from a Qunari and he was prying off the metal Qunari emblem carefully.

Another few hours and no one had responded to their demands, they were growing restless and agitated. One approached gripped at her throat while untying her from the tree, gripping her hair and arm he dragged her over to the campfire. Thrown into the dirt she whimpered as her skin was grazed, a fist ramming into her cheek to ensure she was flattened on the ground. She raggedly coughed into the sand, the dust blowing away in a swirling huff.  
  
“Qunari whore.” A voice growled behind her and she felt a hand on the back of her head, a knee settled in the gap between her legs and the close presence of the man. She jerked and twisted her elbow back, striking the man in his ear and he growled in pain before grabbing her hair and striking her head against the ground once.

Her sensed swam as she was knocked about and bile rose in her throat, she waited for the worst and hoped for the best – the best currently being a swift death. The man behind her lowered close, she could feel his vile breath stuttering angrily along her skin and he licked a long, wet stripe along her shoulder.  
  
“Spread your legs for a murderer but not for us.” He growled angrily and she felt the cool metal of a blade along her spine before the back of her shirt was cut open in a frightening loud rip of fabric, she whimpered and pressed to the ground, the blade still slicing her skin thinly despite her movement. She opened her eyes to see another man carefully pulling a stick out of the fire, it was a spear, and on the end of it was strapped the metal Qunari emblem, now glowing red hot and coming her way. “We’re gonna make sure that everyone knows what you are for the rest of your short life.”  
  
“ _No!”_ she screamed and bucked, hands holding her down as the man holding the brand stopped by her, a chorus of laughter as she screamed and a blinding pain seared through her, the brand blistering and charring her skin between her shoulder blades. Her wail was loud and as the brand was pulled away she received another strike to the head, her eyes rolling from the blow.  

One of the Tal’Vashoth fell backwards with a cry and the others paused, roaring when shouts of fighters were heard. Ivy saw arrows sticking out of the chest of the one who fell and his dagger on the ground between them, the hands of the Kossith leaving her as they ran to engage their attackers. Ivy reached for the dagger, her back screaming with pain as her fingertips slid on the hilt. She could hear the wet thud of objects hitting flesh and gurgling screams as people were cut down, she reached the dagger and gripped it, pushing up onto her elbows to try and run and escape in the confusion.

A kick to her shoulder and she was sent sprawling on her back, the Tal’Vashoth who was pinning her down stood above her, the tip of his spear hovering just above the hollow of her throat.  
  
“Stay back!” he yelled. “I will kill her!” she took the moment to slap the spear tip away, gripping it and pulling it to stab into the ground beside her and dagger in hand she reared up, stabbing the blade deep into his inner thigh. As he screamed an arrow lodged into his chest and a swing of a greatsword stuck into the curve of his neck, he sunk down slowly, dead before he hit the ground.

Ivy jerked at the gentle hands that touched her. Did she pass out? The painful flare of the brand seared into her mind and she whimpered as the hands gently rolled her onto her side. Rougher, gauntleted hands tilted her face up and she thought she saw Hawke, a blaze of sunlight behind his head before she really did pass out.  
  


When she awoke she was in a darkened room, the fireplace crackling and popping in a way that she had a second of believing she was in the Tal’Vashoth camp. She could hear a hushed and somewhat heated conversation behind her and she stayed still, listening to who she recognised as Hawke.  
  
“Will she be alright?” he asked, his voice quiet but still audible.   
  
“She took a beating,” Anders replied, “and she will be in pain for a few days but we got to her before anything _else_ happened.”  
  
“Will you hand her in to the Authorities?” Sebastian asked hesitantly.  
  
“I don’t know.” Hawke replied and Ivy felt her chest tighten apprehensively. “I’m not sure if I can.”  
  
“She was beating down guards in the street.” Aveline hissed angrily.  
  
“If we did hand her in can you guarantee that she would be treated fairly?” Anders asked bitterly and there was a long pause as a reply.  
  
“I’m not going to let her become an example.” Hawke said calmly. “ _Or_ a martyr. Besides, the only real authority at the moment are the Templars.”  
  
“What about the Knight-Captain?” Varric said from somewhere near the fireplace. “I heard a few rumours that they were friendly.”  
  
“But were they friendly enough for her to confide in him?” Fenris asked doubtfully. “I doubt the Templars would be any better than the Guard right now, and if the people find out she’s alive there could be a riot.”  
  
“Then we tell him what we know.” Varric surmised. “He may be a jackboot but he’s listened to us in the past.”  
  
“Why are you so eager to hand her over?” Anders snapped.  
  
“Hey, now it’s not like that,” Varric tried to reassure, “I like the girl, I do – she’s got guts. But we can’t look past the fact that she’s a dangerous person to shelter right now. Any other time I would open my doors to her but as Aveline pointed out she _was_ striking down our soldiers, she defended the Arishok when he fell _and_ she held off the mob to let the Qunari retreat.”  
  
“But if she were Qunari she would have gone with them instead of fleeing.” Hawke spoke reluctantly as if he were thinking.  
  
“People aren’t going to see it that way Hawke,” Varric said sadly, “I wish they would, but it’s not going to happen. Look, let me talk to the Knight-Captain, if they were friends at the very least he should know that she is alright. If it looks like he’s going to harm her I’ll tell him she escaped.” There was a long pause and a sigh.  
  
“Okay.” Hawke said reluctantly.  
  
“I’ll go now then.” Varric said and there was a shuffle of him standing. “You should probably get her cleaned up while I’m gone.”  
  
“She needs to rest.” Anders said.  
  
“Well maybe tell her that since she’s been awake for the last ten minutes.” Varric said and Ivy reluctantly sat up, if they knew she was awake there was no need to face the wall anymore. She looked at them blankly and Varric chuckled before leaving the room.

 

Cullen stared at Ivy as she sat on the floor by the fireplace, the skin on her back bare to relieve pain from the branding as she clutched a blanket to her chest. Anders sat nearby on a chair keeping a watchful eye on her as the others hovered awkwardly in the room. Hawke stood forward and welcomed the Templar into the room with handshake and spoke to him quietly.  
  
“We didn’t know who else to call.” Hawke spoke to Cullen who watched Ivy with a pensive frown. “Word on the streets was that the two of you were friends.”  
  
“We are.” Cullen replied and glanced to give Hawke a half smile. “Thank you for sending word to me, but, what happened?”  
  
“Tal’Vashoth.” Hawke simply said and Cullen figured out the rest.  
  


Nodding to the others in a silent greeting he crossed the room and knelt by Ivy who gave him a cursory glance out of the corner of her eye. He placed a hand on her forearm comfortingly and she began to shake, a solid trembling that raked her body. The room waited in silence, trying to avert their gaze to give the Seer and Templar privacy and at the same time eavesdropping. Ivy turned to Cullen, his gaze steady and patient as if he would wait all night for anything she wanted to say and she felt long held back tears well in her eyes. He squeezed her arm and gave her a sad smile, knowing nothing he could say would help erase the last few months of hell.  
  
“I-” she began and her voice cracked despite her will to sound steady and collected, her fingers clutched in the blanket and she had to collect herself to try to speak again. “I couldn’t stop him.”  
  
“The Arishok?” he asked, as if anyone else _could_ have been responsible for razing the city. Ivy nodded and felt a tear escape which was carefully brushed away by the Templar’s calloused thumb.  
  
“I knew.” She hiccupped. “What he was going to do. I knew it.” she shook her head as her heart wrenched in her chest. “I tried to convince him to wait, to leave, anything. I thought-” her whole body shuddered on her breath and Cullen reached to steady her, seemingly unhindered by the plate armour he wore. “I just needed more time, just needed that damned relic and he would return to Par Vollen.”  
  
“He wasn’t in command of proper judgement.” Cullen said softly and cupped her cheek so she would meet his eyes, she watched his mouth instead. “Even if he had the relic, would he have left?” he asked and she shook her head.  
  
“I could have done better, I should have-” she spoke before Varric interrupted her.   
  
“You couldn’t have stopped him.” Varric said and then all eyes were on him. “Even with your- uh- _powers_. You can think it over time and time again but it won’t change what happened. Shit, if half the stories I’ve heard about the two of you are right he damn well thought the world of you, probably even loved you and he _still_ tried to take the city.”  
  
“Well he had an interesting way of showing it.” Cullen said bitterly. “But Varric is right. You couldn’t have stopped this.”  
  
“It’s my fault.” She whispered as she stared into the low flames. “He would have just taken Isabela. He stayed because he wanted me to-” her voice broke and she shook her head, her whole body tensing in preparation to cry, scream or just give up. Cullen kneeled closer, reaching to place his hands on either side of her face and move her to meet his steadfast hazel eyes.  
  
“Look at me, Ivy.” He spoke in a voice she had never heard from him before, one that was reserved for his soldiers. “He was a fanatic. He would never have left without razing the city, what he did here, what he did to you-” he paused to press down his anger, looking away and jaw twitching before meeting her eyes again. “I swear to the Marker, there was not a way for you to prevent this, you are _not_ to blame.”  
  
“No,” Aveline snapped from the corner of the room, “But she could have warned us.”  
  
“Aveline.” Hawke said in warning.  
  
“You have no idea how many good men I lost.” She spat and Ivy cringed from the anger in her voice.  
  
“She warned us as much as she could have.” Anders said flatly from somewhere behind Ivy. “She sought us out time and again.”  
  
“Vague requests and cryptic messages? _That_ is your idea of giving us warning?” Aveline near yelled and Hawke strode to her, gripping her arm and hissing his demand for silence.  
  
“And what would you have done, Aveline?” Anders spoke with disdain, tired and beyond being able to take a scolding from the Guardswoman. “Had she told you what could happen, that there was a chance that the Arishok would raze the city, would you have been idle or would you charge in head first and accuse him before we were ready?” Aveline’s cheeks began to turn pink from anger. “You knew about the relic, we all did. But instead of listening you latched onto the crimes of a couple of elves like a stubborn bulldog and pressed until the Arishok snapped.”  
  
“We could have prepared, fortified-” Aveline growled.  
  
“ _This city is stone and spikes_.” Anders bit back exasperatedly before huffing in laughter and shaking his head.  
  
“This isn’t helping,” Fenris interrupted, “We need to figure out what to do with the Seer.”  
  
“She can stay here.” Hawke said tiredly, more than ready for the night to be over. “It’s the least I can do.”  
  
“As admirable as that is,” Cullen said, “she cannot stay in Kirkwall, it was a risk bringing her back.” Ivy looked to Cullen and he gave her a tight smile, his hand gently resting on hers. “There is not a soul in Kirkwall who does not know you. It hurts me to send you away, but it is the only option we have. I have a… friend, I guess. In Ferelden. He will be able to hide you easily.”  
  
“Perhaps the Knight-Captain is right,” Aveline said coldly, “if she is found she will be put on trial, if not executed immediately.”  
  
“I can arrange passage,” Varric said, his voice comforting and a stark contrast to Aveline’s, “but it will have to be tonight.”  
  


Ivy sighed and closed her eyes, her hand absently gripping Cullen’s as her mind hummed from the rush of emotions that swirled through her. She almost wished that she would just go into shock just so she didn’t have to feel anything but numb. She opened her eyes and looked to Cullen, he was scared for her, more than when she was with the Qunari. Before she had the protection of an army but now she was defenceless, even with the good intentions of her newfound friends they could not help her if she was discovered, he knew that and she knew that.

Her head feeling like it was made of lead she nodded to the Templar once.  
  
“I trust you.” She said quietly and earned a sad smile from him.  
  
“Then we must go.” He said softly and helped her stand.

 

She was wearing borrowed clothes as Cullen, Varric and Hawke snuck her to the docks. Nobody was around, still too afraid of leaving their houses but the crew of the ship was preparing to leave on the dawn. Varric walked ahead to greet the captain of the ship, someone he had dealings with in the past while Cullen and Hawke waited nervously with Ivy in between them. Moments later Varric returned and spoke to them in a hushed voice.  
  
“It’s all settled, no questions asked one way passage to Denerim.” He said with a tight smile. “You’ll have to stay below deck during the journey, but the Captain will make sure you stay safe.”  
  
“Thank you Varric.” Ivy said shakily and he seemed surprised when she carefully pulled him in for a hug. He gave her one in return and stepped away, walking off the pier slowly. Hawke looked at her tiredly and smiled.  
  
“Take care of yourself.” He said and gently hugged her. “You’re a free woman now.” Ivy looked at him and chewed her lip.  
  
“Those disappearances you looked into months ago,” she said before she had an idea to stop, “you tracked them as far as the foundry and lost the trail.”  
  
“We only found the wedding rings, what of it?” he asked, glancing between her and Cullen.  
  
“There is a hatch that leads to a basement, it’s a madman killing women for parts. He’s going to come back.” Hawke nodded in understanding but she shook her head. “He sends white lilies to his victims, your mother is going to be one of them, warning her should be enough to prevent it.” Hawke’s mouth was agape and he swallowed thickly before he nodded once.  
  
“Thank you for telling me.” He said before bowing and walking away.  
  


Cullen watched him go before he turned back to Ivy, a sad, tilted smile gracing his face.  
  
“You’re not going to leave me with some ominous warning are you?” he joked and Ivy stepped in suddenly, hugging him and resting her forehead on his collarbone.  
  
“Just be careful.” She whispered back a sob and his hands raised to gently touch her shoulder and head.  
  
“I always am.” He said and she laughed into his shirt.  
  
“When you leave Kirkwall, let me know?” she asked and he nodded, his cheek moving against her hair. “I’d hate to go to all the effort to sneak back in and find you aren’t here.” She joked and stepped back. He produced a letter from somewhere and held it out to her, she took it cautiously and turned it over in her hands, feeling the wax seal.  
  
“When you get to Denerim go to the palace, tell the guards you have a message for the King from me.” He instructed her and she nodded once. “I’ll _try_ to contact him while you’re travelling but, well, things are chaotic.”  
  
“I understand.” She said. “Cullen, thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this for me.” He smiled bitterly and looked to the ground.  
  
“Yeah I did.” He muttered. “I seem to have a hard time denying you anything.” The pause between them was heavy before he broke it. “You had better go.” Looking down at the deck of the pier she nodded.  
  
Turning away she walked to the gangplank, her boots making a thudding echo along the wood. She boarded and was ushered by the ship captain to go below deck, managing one last look at Cullen and the smoking city before she slipped below.  
  


The week below deck passed slowly, the sounds of conversations between the sailors kept her amused as she eavesdropped and hid among the cargo and crates. She spent the time exercising, sleeping, crying and true to her promise she didn’t go on deck once. The captain, an older gentleman who seemed to be a retired soldier-turned-merchant wordlessly come once a day to give her food and water before leaving her to her thoughts, which had turned dark.

She thought about the Qunari, they’d be well on their way to Par Vollen now with the relic and Isabela, a bittersweet victory with the loss of their Arishok, whose body they would have dumped overboard. The Qunari believed that the body was just a vessel, once dead there was no importance and so they simply disposed of corpses. No mourning, life continues. Idly she ran her fingers over the necklace that remained on her wrist – She had loved him. She knew that now, far too late.

Once she stepped off the ship and onto the docks of Denerim she felt the reality of it smack her in the face. She was alone, after being sheltered by the Qunari for five years she was finally free to choose for herself. She felt for the letter tucked into her waistband and hesitated, should she do what Cullen instructed? She trusted him, he wouldn’t purposefully put her into harm’s way, but was it what she should do? She had the opportunity to walk away, to forge her own life for the first time instead of being swept along in the current. She began to walk slowly, unsure of what direction to take, even if she chose to go to the palace she had no idea how to get there. She had nothing to her name, just clothes and a letter, but she felt… good.

She looked at the already busy streets and headed towards the largest building she could see, assuming that the grandest building would be either the chantry or palace, she would deliver the letter and decide, either she would find a home in Denerim or she would leave.

The guard who stopped her before she could enter the palace properly didn’t believe her when she said she had a message for the king from the Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall Circle, he mostly just stared at her in incredulous boredom as if she were wasting his time. This went on for a few minutes before she held up the sealed letter, showing the wax seal. He moved as if to take it from her and she snatched it back.  
  
“No deal,” she said a bit angrily, “I’ve travelled for a week to hand this to no one but the King, and given the _political_ situation in Kirkwall I’m not certain he would appreciate the delay you are causing.” The guard stared at her and Ivy had a moment of thinking that her gamble didn’t pay off, but soon he rolled his eyes and waved her through, yelling at a nearby page boy to take her to the King.

Ivy was sat down on a bench in a large, opulent hallway and she looked about nervously. The floors were polished marble with intricate rugs running along the length of the hallway, tapestries and suits of armour decorated the area and every now and then a servant rushed past nervously. Ivy noticed that all of the servants she had seen were elvhen and she wondered if they were happy in their jobs, the way that they skittered about suggested they were more afraid than anything else.

A couple of hours later Ivy was ready to get up and leave the palace, certain she was forgotten about when the door in front of her was opened and two men strode out. The first was tall, dressed in blue regalia, his short cropped blonde hair poking out from the small crown that encircled his head. The second was older with auburn hair and beard and in plate armour. They turned down the hall and walked away without even glancing to her and Ivy had to jump up and jog a few steps to reach them.  
  
“My King.” Ivy said and she surprised herself with the term, she had intended to say _majesty_ or something but her brain clearly decided against it. The two stopped and turned, looking at her in ire and she bowed deeply and somewhat nervously. She held the letter out to the blonde man and he took it with a sigh.  
  
“More demands from the Bannorn?” he drawled in a nasally voice.  
  
“Comes with being King, Alistair.” The other man said and Ivy’s mind clicked in realisation. Alistair read the letter, mumbling to himself and frowned, looking up at Ivy a couple of times before handing the letter to the man beside him.   
  
“Rutherford still has a stick up his arse I see.” The King quipped and looked Ivy over. “Well, I take it you’re that Volkev woman he told me about.”  
  
“Yes, Ivy Volkev.” She said, a little surprised he didn’t write an alias in the letter.  
  
“You don’t look like a soldier.” The older man said and Alistair snatched back the letter.  
  
“And you don’t look like a horses arse, Teagan, but you are one.” Alistair joked before nodding to Ivy. “Report to the barracks, Volkev. Welcome to the Kings Guard.”  
  


She walked into the barracks and the Captain read the message she held from the King twice, his black moustache scrunched up unhappily in a sneer.   
  
“This says you were in the Kirkwall Guard.” He said and Ivy replied with a _yes ser_ while standing to attention. “I hear that invasion was a shitstorm.” She gave another affirmative and he dropped the letter onto his desk. “I don’t know why the King wants me to ignore procedure and take in a Marcher who fled to Ferelden after a skirmish with some oxmen,” he said angrily, “especially when there are plenty of good Ferelden men busting their arse to get into our ranks. But I’m not going to disobey orders.” He stood getting in close to Ivy who didn’t flinch. “ _When_ you disappoint me, I’m going to throw you over the walls. Understood?”  
  
“Understood, ser.” Ivy said as she quashed the spark of anger that flourished in her gut. She suddenly doubted her decision, but was determined to get a foothold in Ferelden, better than starving in the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! 2017 had better be an improvement. *shakes fist*


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t think I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long, take my advice:
> 
> Get a cup of tea, rug up and enjoy!  
> ...You have no idea how many times I started to giggle while writing this.

Ferelden was colder than Kirkwall and Ivy _definitely_ wasn’t accustomed to it. The winter weather seemed to threaten snow consistently but only served to make the ground icy and air sharp, she wasn’t used to it, she hated it. Hated everything about this mud-soaked country and it made the last six months unbearable.

She was on guard in the middle of the night, the balcony that connected to the private library that was never used. She couldn’t be inside since the balcony provided a good vantage point of the gardens, just in case they were attacked by sunflowers, and the next guard was on the far side of the library entrance so she couldn’t even chat to him. They told her shortly after she began that it was one of the worst spots to be stationed, no cover from the elements, no one to talk to and an easy spot to be sniped from. The Captain’s contempt for her evident as he permanently assigned her to that post on the night watch. She exhaled and watched the mist curl in front of her, pretended she was a dragon for a moment and smiled to herself, remembering that she did the same when she was a kid in primary school.

It had to be nearly one in the morning, hard to keep track of time without the bustle of activity from the castle and she was here until someone came to replace her at dawn. She groaned to herself, being a guard was exactly as she thought it would be, boring. But she couldn’t complain, she was _alive_.

Heavy footsteps and a growl of frustration alerted her to someone heading her way and a moment later the King stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the balustrade without looking her way. He was dressed in what she assumed were pyjamas, a long robe covering him and long, cotton pants. His chest was bare to the cold and his golden hair was sticking up at awkward angles, it seemed he had tried to sleep and failed. He stared at the garden below him angrily.  
  
“Fucking, fuck shit fuck.” He swore profusely before letting out a long sigh and scrubbing at his face, standing up slightly he noticed Ivy and paused before leaning back onto the balustrade and looking up to the starry sky. “You didn’t hear that.” He said and Ivy reigned in the smile that was threatening her.  
  
“Not a word, My King.” She said flatly, but she knew a bit of amusement got through in the lilt of her voice when he looked to her with suspicion.  
  
“You’re Cullen’s girl aren’t you?” he asked and Ivy was surprised he even remembered her existence after six months.  
  
“Yes My King, Ivy Volkev.” She replied and he smiled.  
  
“The correct term is _Your Majesty_ or _Ser._ ” He pointed out a bit amused and Ivy kept her gaze in front of her.  
  
“Apologies, Ser.” She said feeling somewhat chided and he shrugged.   
  
“Oh, I don’t care. Call me whatever you want.” He said flatly.  
  
“Yes, My King.” She replied and he barked out a laugh.  
  


Another week passed and she was on guard on the damned library balcony again. She was singing to herself, a typical pop song from Earth that had probably fallen into obscurity by now, low enough that she wouldn’t get scolded by the guard on the other entrance to the library. It _was_ one in the morning this time, she gave herself the challenge of learning to tell the time by the position of the moon and she was pretty certain that it was one o’clock. The angry footsteps echoed again and Alistair burst onto the balcony in a repeat of the previous week, stopping at the balustrade and swearing again.  
  
“ _Fuck._ ” He growled and slumped on the balustrade, his arms dangling over the edge as he rested his chin on the stone. He sighed and Ivy watched him out of the corner of her eye. “Keep singing.” He said tiredly. Ivy paused a moment before starting up again and few minutes later the King looked to her.  
  
“I don’t know the song.” He said as if he should have, she half smiled, her gaze still on the gardens below her.  
  
“No one would, My King.” She said. “It’s from my home.”  
  
“Is it far?” he asked curiously.  
  
“Too far.” She replied and he nodded in almost understanding before standing up and sighing. He turned and walked quietly back into the castle.  
  


The third week Ivy was silently swearing at the sky, it was damned cold and it _still_ wasn’t snowing. At nearly two o’clock she heard the heavy footfalls and he burst through again, not swearing this time but punching the air in anger. Alistair paced in frustration muttering to himself and Ivy dutifully made no reaction, she was a guard, she wasn’t supposed to see anything private like this. He ducked into the library for a moment and emerged with a bottle, uncorking it he took a long swig and let out a satisfied growl that let her know that whatever it was he drank burned as it went down.  
  
“I find,” he said quietly, “that the best way to beat the cold is Antivan Brandy.” She smiled and he walked over to her offering the bottle, when she regarded it suspiciously – since she wasn’t allowed to drink on duty – he sloshed the contents and rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to report you.” He drawled and Ivy took the bottle with thanks, taking a large drink and relishing the burn that warmed her from the inside.  
  
“My King,” Ivy began hesitantly as she handed the bottle back to him. “Are you alright?” she asked and he looked at her in surprise before letting his passive mask of a slight smile settle over his face.   
  
“Maker, get one drink into you and you’re emotional.” He joked before dragging a chair from the library onto the balcony and sat on it, leaning onto the balustrade and gazing over the view. About ten minutes passed before he spoke again without looking her way. “I’m not.” He said flatly. “Sing for me?” he asked and she hummed in affirmation, singing quietly to the night air.  
  


The fourth week saw him walk to the balcony at three am without a robe on, just the long cotton pants. He didn’t shout or swear, just walked out calmly and stood next to her without a word.  
  
“My King, you’ll freeze.” Ivy said as she unclasped the Ferelden cape from her shoulders and threw it around his, pulling it tight around him his hand came up to gently clasp where the fabric joined. “You must go inside.”   
  
“I can’t have children.” He said quietly and Ivy almost thought she misheard him, he still stared off into the distance and let out a raking sigh that danced out of his lungs as mist. “I don’t know why I told you that. I shouldn’t have. Is there a chance that you could forget it?” he said as he forced a joking smile.  
  
“Nothing to forget, My King.” She said as she guided him inside the library and sat him into a large, comfortable chair. “We never even talked.” she knelt and stoked the nearby fire, personally grateful to be out of the freezing air. Picking up a bottle of brandy and goblet from the nearby collection on the table she walked over and poured a small amount to offer to the King. He took it without question and drank as he stared into the fire, hitching his shoulders to pull the cape around him tighter.  
  
“You know, Cullen and I go way back.” He said lightly as if carrying on a different conversation.  
  
“You saved him in Kinloch Hold if I am correct?” Ivy said and he nodded.  
  
“ _That_ was a bad day.” He understated with a smile, happy to be talking about something other than what was bothering him. “Entire Circle overrun with demons and poor Cullen the last one alive. I don’t know if he has the best or worst luck.”  
  
“He’d probably say that luck had nothing to do with it.” Ivy said with a smile. “He’s is frustratingly stoic.” Alistair laughed quietly and agreed.   
  
“I never asked how you knew him.” Alistair looked to her for the answer, she smiled and glanced away, pushing her curls back behind her ear.  
  
“He saved my life.” She said with a shrug. “Got me out of a bad situation.”  
  
“Of _course_ he did.” He drawled with a chuckle. “He seems to be some kind of unsung hero. Very dashing. Well built.”  
  
“I haven’t slept with him.” She said chidingly and he held up a hand with a grin as if he hadn’t insinuated it.  
  
“Never asked,” he teased, “and would certainly never suggest that you do it the next time you see him.”  
  
“Of course not, My King.” She said jokingly and he laughed tiredly, scrubbing his face with his free hand. He looked like he had to move but didn’t want to, didn’t want to go back to wherever he came from. “If it suits you, I could send for some bedding.” She offered and he smiled tightly.  
  
“Thank you, but no.” He said and stood with a grunt, passing the cape back to her which she refastened straight away. He frowned and looked to the balcony, a thought crossing his mind. “You’ve been at that post for a month, surely the rotation would have changed by now.” He said and Ivy looked to the ground as if she had been caught doing something bad.  
  
“It has twice, My King.” She said and he shook his head.  
  
“I will inform the Captain that you must be moved in the morning.”  
  
“If it’s all the same,” Ivy spoke quickly before he walked away, “I would rather not be the cause of trouble. You know what it’s like in the barracks.” Alistair stared at her for a minute before reluctantly nodding.  
  
“Alright. It’s your decision.” He said before leaving the room and Ivy returned to her post.

She fell into her cot just after dawn, still in full armour since she was so tired and awoke to a shove and falling sensation before hitting the ground hard. She looked up and saw her Captain glaring down at her angrily.  
  
“Get up.” He snarled angrily before kicking towards her legs, she jerked out of the way and stood to attention. “Training grounds, _now_.” He yelled and she double timed it to the yards.

It was barely nine in the morning, she had managed to get two hours sleep and by all rights she should have been still asleep but instead she was holding a shield and facing off with a much larger guard and trying to fend off a shield break. Each time the man shoved into her with the shield she fell into the freezing mud, she tried to get the hang of it but the size difference was ridiculous. Generally after five minutes the Captain would call to rotate the soldiers, giving each one a chance to train in different things, sword, shield, archery and so forth, which he did. But he also ordered her to stay put, leaving her on the shield break and refreshing her opponent.

This went on for half an hour, she was sore all over, bruised and covered from head to toe in mud which had also made its way under her clothing. She felt sick from the constant impact and falling and overheated from the exertion, at this rate she was going to pass out.  
  
“Not so smart now, Volkev.” Her Captain drawled as she was shoved into the ground again. “Guess reporting me to the King was a bad decision.” She stood slowly again and braced for yet another impact.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking-” the hit from the shield sent her sprawling back into the mud and she bit back a groan of pain. The Captain stepped up and crouched beside her, idly dragging his fingertips through the mud.  
  
“The King has demanded that my guard rosters for the last six months be audited.” He said flatly. “Your doing, no doubt.” He flicked his fingers and mud splattered along her cheek, she closed her eye reflexively and he smirked. “You sauntered in here six months ago, using your influence to get into the guard where everyone else had to work their arses off. Things don’t work that way around here, and I’ll be damned if I wear that insult.” He stood and walked back out of the way. “Get your arse up, Volkev, or you’ll be scrubbing out the stables for a year.” Ivy bit the inside of her cheek and mustered the strength to stand, brace and be shoved down again. And again. And again.

It was mid-afternoon before she was permitted to leave the training ring, she had thrown up so many times that she couldn’t remember the exact number, every part of her ached and most of her was bruised, there was possibly a fractured rib but she didn’t know. Peeling off her mud covered armour she looked down and sighed in disgust. Her armour would have to be cleaned before she went back on duty in a few hours and she definitely needed to bathe, let alone clean the shirt and pants she wore under the armour. She left her cot and walked to the washing rooms, she’ll start with her armour and work from there.

Suitably cleaned she stepped out of the communal bathroom and made her way to her cot, before she lumped onto it face first to sleep for the remaining hour until she had to be on duty she noticed that her armour – which she had placed by the cot – was gone. She looked under and around the room frantically, asking her bunkmate if someone moved it – to which she got a shrug. Half panicked she spent the next hour searching the barracks, she couldn’t find them. She had to report to her post, she could be on guard without armour- as long as she was on guard. She picked up her cape which had thankfully been left behind and slipped on a second pair of shoes that she had tucked away under the cot. Swearing and picking up her sword she fastened it to her and made her way to the balcony.

Hands fisted and arms crossed under her breasts she shivered as she tried to wrap the cape around her tightly. She hated Ferelden, hated it. At least Kirkwall was warm. At least in Kirkwall she had a reason to continue with her day. Her mind slipped back to before the city was razed, a moment of peace and contentment where she was leaning against the Arishok as he read to her, his warm chest rumbling beneath her spine as he explained each verse with care. She shook her head as if it would shake the memory away, she hadn’t thought of him for a month or so and it still pained her, still made her throat tight as she choked back a sob.  
  
“Fuck.” She gasped and roughly wiped away a tear with her fist before jerking her arm back into position lest the cold get to her any worse. “You fucking stupid, stupid, asshole.” She said quietly.  
  
“Bad time?” Came Alistair’s voice from the doorway and she gasped and straightened her posture, forcing her arms flat against her side. She heard him step closer and sigh, she could almost imagine him looking at her condescendingly with a hand on his hip. “Where is your armour?”  
  
“Indisposed, My King.” Came her reply as she tried to control her shivering.  
  
“And who made it that way?” he asked and she remained silent. “Come inside.” He demanded and she followed him into the library, standing where he directed her – which also happened to be in front of the fireplace. The warmth radiated over her almost painfully and her shivering began to subside as Alistair watched her from his chair. “You look exhausted.” He pointed out. “Anything to do with the training today?” She glanced to him and he just blinked at her slowly, almost in boredom.  
  
“Just standard training, My King.” She said.  
  
“If what I watched today was _standard training_ then something clearly is not working because you are still shit with a shield.” He huffed and Ivy couldn’t help it, her blank face cracked and she was giggling which was infectious as Alistair cracked a smile of his own. Soon enough she calmed, scrubbing at her face as the laughter threatened to begin again. “You _are_ tired.” He said with amusement. “Nothing for it then.” He waved towards the fireplace. “Stoke the fire and grab a chair.”

She did as he asked and he dragged over a small table, placing a chessboard on it.  
  
“You know how to play?” he asked.  
  
“As long as our rules don’t differ, then yes.” She said and he set up the board. “My King-” she began and he groaned.  
  
“Maker’s sake, call me Alistair.” he gruffed at her and she nodded.  
  
“Alistair,” it felt weird using his first name, “I should be on guard.”  
  
“I’m not particularly worried about being attacked by roses.” He joked and gestured for her to make the first move.

For the most part the rules were the same as the Chess she grew up with and before she knew it she was having fun. Alistair drank brandy- he had offered her some but she refused, didn’t like the idea of returning to the barracks smelling like alcohol – and soon it was past midnight.  
  
“I’m glad you came early.” Ivy said quietly as she pondered her next move in the game, he was reclining with his head propped up by his hand, his elbow digging into the high arm of the chair. “I would hate to be out there now.”  
  
“You could report them you know.” He suggested quietly, his eyes watching her move the chess piece curiously.  
  
“Feels like giving up.” She said, “I don’t want to give them the satisfaction.”  
  
“I know that feeling.” He mumbled and leaned forward, scoping out the board for any advantages. He made his move – a careless one since it meant she could take his rook – and leaned back again to gaze at her. “Why you were swearing on the balcony?” he asked carefully and she leaned forward, examining the board before moving a piece, she didn’t take his rook, he was leading her into a trap.  
  
“Why were you?” she asked as she scooted back, comfortable in the large chair which was definitely better than being outside. He smiled at her and swirled his drink, taking a sip from it.  
  
“I hate my wife.” He said simply and leaned forward to look over the board again. “One of the demands of being King is producing an heir, and in order to do that I need to do something I find fundamentally disgusting.” He moved a piece and sat back again meeting Ivy’s eyes. “Anora is that fundamentally disgusting thing if it wasn’t clear.” He deadpanned and Ivy nodded her head once, trying to hide an inappropriate smile behind her hand.  
  
“Oh, it was clear.” She said and took her turn. He grinned and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask-”  
  
“Just ask it anyway.”  
  
“You’re a Grey Warden, doesn’t that mean that you’re infertile?”  
  
“For the most part, yes.” He replied and finally moved a piece. “The chance of conception is very low, but still a chance. Anora never had children with Cailan - no idea why since they seemed to be infatuated with each other and I’m sure they were at it like bunnies about the palace - and she wants them. I might not like being with her, but I want her to be happy.”  
  
“Admirable.” Ivy said and frowned at the board before taking a pawn.   
  
“And what about you?” he asked before stifling a yawn. “It sounded like more than swearing at the cold.”  
  
“Just remembering a good moment in a bad relationship.” She said and he hummed.  
  
“The Arishok?” he asked simply and she froze, looking to him with wide eyes. He gave her a tight smile and shrugged. “I wasn’t going to bring you into my home without as many details about you as possible, Cullen reluctantly told me about the Arishok while you were travelling. Mage stones are amazing things, you can have a conversation with someone across the world as if they were in front of you.”   
  
“Yeah,” Ivy said slowly, “we have something similar at home.”  
  
“Don’t worry.” He said and leaned forward to take her bishop. “I’m not going to judge you for who you had relationships with in the past as long as you do me the same courtesy.” He smiled and Ivy returned it with one of her own, he was good at getting her to relax which she should probably be wary of.   


He stayed with her until dawn, even though she insisted that he didn’t have to, and soon after being relieved she returned exhausted to the barracks where she found her newly muddied armour nestled in her cot. Beyond caring she shoved the armour onto the floor and flopped face down onto the bed, falling asleep instantly.

Months passed and she remained on the library balcony, enjoying the company of the King once or twice a week and before she knew it she had been in Ferelden for a year. As a surprise one night Alistair visited her on the balcony during her shift and held out a large, clear glowing crystal.  
  
“It’s the mage stone,” he said, “I thought you’d like to contact someone, a certain handsome Templar maybe.” He grinned as her face lit up in happiness. “But you’ll have to be quick, I may be King but they don’t let me borrow things – they keep complaining that I lose stuff.”   
  
“How do I use it?” she asked as he placed it in her hand, it was heavy and warm, as big as the spread of her fingers.  
  
“Just think of who you want to talk to, if they have one it will signal them.” Ivy concentrated hard on an image of Cullen until the rock was vibrating in her hand. She opened her eyes at the first sound of the disgruntled Templar.  
  
“Maker, Alistair it’s the middle of the night.” Cullen’s face appeared in the crystal, his hair mussed and shoulders bare – they had woken him up.  
  
“Cullen?” Ivy said quietly and his eyes widened in recognition a smile played over his lips before he frowned.  
  
“Ivy? That you?” she was nodding. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Alistair sidled in behind her and placed his head next to hers, presumably so Cullen could see both their faces in his stone.  
  
“She’s fine, negative Nancy,” Alistair drawled, “we’re calling because you haven’t spoken to us in a year.” Cullen sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
“I know, sorry, I haven’t even written. Things are… unstable here.”  
  
“What happened?” Ivy asked.  
  
“Too many things to list but nothing substantial, the Qunari leaving triggered a power change and the Templars are running the city now.” Cullen explained quietly while checking over his shoulder. “But Meredith has closed ranks, she’s becoming increasingly paranoid of any outside influences.”  
  
“Be careful there, Cullen.” Ivy warned and he nodded. “I’m serious.”  
  
“I know.” He replied with a sad smile. “How about you? Is Alistair looking after you?”  
  
“More like she’s looking after me.” Alistair said before moving away. Cullen smiled at Ivy, his expression finally relaxing and Ivy felt her chest go tight. He looked older in just the one year she had been away, a part of her felt that her she should be there, another part insisted that she shouldn’t have gone at all.  
  
“When things are better I’m going to come and visit, spend some time in Ferelden with you, it’s really a beautiful place, especially around the Hinterlands.” He promised and she smiled and nodded, blinking back tears.  
  
“That would be nice.” She said and it earned her another smile, she looked to Alistair who smiled at her before looking up to the clear night sky. “You could have warned me about the mud though.” Cullen chuckled quietly and nodded, glancing behind him quickly as if he heard a sound.  
  
“I must go,” he whispered quickly, “promise me you’ll stay safe.”  
  
“I promise.” Ivy said as worry gnawed at her stomach. “Be careful.” He flashed her another tight smile before his hand covered his stone and the one she held turned back into a normal, slightly glowing crystal.

She dreamed that morning, not a vision but memories of large clawed hands bruising her skin and the prevalent fear that dogged her last few months in Kirkwall. It wasn’t uncommon for her to dream this and less uncommon for her bunkmate to throw something at her to wake her up.  
  
“Maker’s sake.” He gruffed from above her after throwing his pillow onto her face. “How did I get stuck with the child who has nightmares?”  
  


Seasons passed again and everyday life was just that, the hassle in the barracks lessened when her Captain was shipped out somewhere unpleasant and replaced – an executive decision from the King when he found her tending to a black eye and news slowly trickled to Ferelden of unrest in Kirkwall.   
  
“You need a night off.” Alistair insisted after she received news of smaller riots in Kirkwall. “Hell, _I_ need a night off. Meet me in the library after the dusk bell.”

She walked into the private library just after dusk and Alistair greeted her with a grin and a bottle in each hand, the table was set up with Chess and the fire roaring to quickly heat up the cold room. He ushered her into the room and kicked the door closed behind her before anyone saw her enter.  
  
“I told the guard captain to keep the posts near here empty for tonight. He wasn’t happy with the idea but hey, I’m a King.” They laughed and he opened a bottle, pouring a liberal amount into two goblets and handing one to her, they toasted to their night off and downed the drink, clearing their throats as it burned.

In her defence Ivy hadn’t drunk in a _long_ time, and in comparison to the King, who drank half the time she saw him, she was somewhat sober. But the fact still remained that they were both rather inebriated after a couple of hours. The chessboard had been moved aside since their logical skills had packed up and left them and Ivy was lying in front of the fire, feet up on a chair while Alistair was awkwardly slumped in his chair, his feet propped up beside Ivy’s. He was telling her about the Hero of Ferelden, an elf, and the time they got lost in Orzamaar before he lost track of the story.  
  
“What was I talking about?” Alistair asked.  
  
“Dwarves.” Ivy replied and Alistair let out an exasperated sound.  
  
“How boring.” He complained. “Let’s play a game.” Ivy stood precariously and wandered over to the bookshelves, running her hands along the worn spines. There were lots in there, three separate rows that hid her from Alistair’s view and blocked the sound of his complaints about boredom. She stopped in the corner of one and tapped the spines of a couple, opening one up she flipped the pages and images of flowers decorated the page, she put it down and looked at another – details of ships.  
  
“Who do these books belong to?” she asked and he rounded the corner with two drinks, passing one to Ivy as he leaned back on the shelf and shrugged.  
  
“Predecessors I guess, think they’ve always been here.” He said and took a drink while he swayed. Ivy pulled a book and a smaller red leather book fell out, she blinked at it and cursed it for its betrayal of falling off the shelf before picking it up with a giggle. She held it up and a page fell open to a drawing of a naked woman. She half snorted and giggled as she looked at the image.  
  
“We’re your predecessors perverts?” she asked through a laugh and he grinned at her.  
  
“Well, my mother _was_ a servant, the old king probably found the scandalous idea titillating.” He shrugged and laughed into his drink as she flipped the page and felt a blush spread across her cheeks. The new page was graced with an overly detailed picture of a woman performing oral sex on a man. “What’s got you so flustered?” Alistair asked and reached for the book which Ivy snatched away and pressed to her stomach, looking at the King with wide eyes she stifled a giggle and tried to school her face to be blank.  
  
“Nothing.” She said automatically and he looked at her mischievously before pushing away from the shelving, placing his drink up high.  
  
“Nothing.” He repeated disbelievingly. And she glanced at the book page again quickly.  
  
“It’s a – uh-” a laugh broke through her throat as she stepped back from his advancing form. “It’s a bird.” She said and he raised an eyebrow. “It’s a really _fat_ bird.” She said sarcastically and yelped when Alistair grabbed at her, his arms encircling her waist. Laughing they tumbled onto the floor, the book held above their heads as they miraculously broke each others fall. Alistair ended up on top of Ivy’s back, laughing as he snatched the book and looked at the page.  
  
“ _This_ is what got you blushing like a Chantry Sister?” he asked incredulously and then gasped, leaning down to get her attention. “Are you a virgin?”   
  
“ _No._ ” she said and swatted at the book he held, he laughed and held it just out of reach before sliding off her back enough to let her breathe easily. He lay on his stomach next to her and they both looked at the offending page.   
  
“So you’ve done that then.” He said and she hummed in affirmation.  
  
“You?” she asked and his pause was long enough that she grinned at him until his cheeks flushed. He nodded once and turned the page and showed a woman on top of the man riding him.  
  
“Yup.” He said, as if mentally ticking a box.  
  
“Oh please that’s easy, next.” Ivy said and he turned the page again. They went through the pages one by one, chorusing their confirmation or denial and laughing like teenagers who found an old stash of playboy magazines. Every now and then they found one that made them both turn their heads in confusion.  
  
“How does she get her leg like that?” Ivy asked halfway through the book.  
  
“I’m seriously worried for his health.” Alistair stage whispered to her and they turned the page again.  
  
“Yes.” Ivy said.  
  
“No you haven’t, don’t lie.” He teased her and turned the page.   
  
“What is he- oh!” she laughed and turned the page before Alistair could. “I don’t want to know your answer for that one.” She rolled onto her back and brought the book with her, Alistair rested his head on her shoulder to see the pages and let his hand lay flat on her stomach.  
  
“Yes.” He said and Ivy raised an eyebrow at him. “I have!” he said laughing.  
  
“I don’t believe you.” She teased and he grinned wolfishly.  
  
“Maybe I should show you.” He said softly and she felt her cheeks flush, his thumb tracing patterns just below her navel making her heart skitter nervously.  
  
“Maybe you should.” She barely whispered back and his hand slipped slowly lower as they stared at each other, her hips arching as his fingers dipped below the waistline of her leggings and traced along the curves of her sex.  
  
“Turn the page.” He insisted and she complied, reaching a new chapter of the book which detailed all sorts of bondage knots. He dipped his finger lower to part her lips and she bent her leg at the knee to give him better access, his finger slid up easily to circle her clit and she bit her lip in a moan which was echoed by a his strangled gasp. “Ever been tied up before?” he asked as he glanced at the page.  
  
“Not in a good way.” She said breathlessly and he smiled against her shoulder.  
  
“Me neither.” He said and raised his head up to bring his lips close to hers. “We should try it someday.” He said before kissing her gently, his tongue flicking against her lips in permission and she moaned, sliding her tongue along his as she bucked up into his hand. He pulled back and watched her writhe for a moment, a very masculine smile gracing his face before he moved to kiss at her stomach, the feel of his breath along her skin stimulating her nerves to twitch as his tongue flicked along her hipbones. He withdrew his hand long enough to hike her leggings down and off of her feet, her boots lost sometime earlier in the night, he moved to situate himself between her legs, his free hand pushing her tunic to rest above her breastband.  
  
“Take this off.” He rasped and she slipped the tunic over her head before reaching back and untying the knot of the breastband, letting it drop beside her. He took her all in, his eyes noticing each curve and detail presented before him. “Beautiful.” He said before leaning forward to take one nipple into his mouth gently, while his hand still worked in gentle circles around her clit.

She bucked and writhed under the attention, reaching to pull his tunic over his head awkwardly which caused a bout of laughter from the both of them. The shirt shed she got a moment to appreciate him, his lean body still held onto the physique of someone who wore plate mail armour daily, scars littered his body and she leaned up to kiss one gently, followed by another.

Her hands pulled at the ties on his breeches, opening them to allow one hand to slide in easily and gently palm his erection. The moan that escaped his lips was wanton and he leaned down to take her lips with his again, grinding against her hand in an attempt to seek more friction. He shuddered and pulled back suddenly, carefully removing her hand from him and crawled backwards, lifting her leg from behind her knee before he gave her a wicked grin and darted down to lave his tongue against her sex, the sudden and intense sensation arching her back off the floor as she gasped and held the back of his head carefully. He moaned and mumbled something incoherent before sliding a finger into her, the pad of it stroking gently upwards to brush against her nerves and her whole body shook, her own hand clamping over mouth to stifle the chorus of moans that he was eliciting from her.

Her whole body trembled and tensed as her brought her with his tongue and hands, worshiping at her core as she shivered through aftershocks and he coaxed her through the afterglow. He leaned above her with a cheeky grin and kissed her gently, she tasted herself on his lips and smiled as he shuffled to kick off his pants and boots.   
  
“Can you kneel?” he asked as his knuckles ran gently down her side and she nodded loosely. His hands hovering over her she settled on her knees in front of him, her back to him as he kneeled behind her and sat back on his feet.

A pause in his confident movements and a breathy curse had Ivy wondering if he managed to injure himself somehow before she felt extremely gentle fingers tracing the diamond shape of the scarred brand on her back. She looked to the side smiling at him and scooped his hand away before kissing his knuckle swiftly.  
  
“Don’t get distracted.” She purred and he gave her a wide smile. He guided her back to straddle him, one hand on her abdomen for balance and the other guiding his erection to line up with her. Hands on her hips he lowered her down gently, leaning back slightly he encouraged her with whispers until she was sliding down onto him and gasping. He growled a curse and mouthed her back lightly, holding her in place.   
  
“Maker,” he rasped, “don’t move.” His pulse raced in his fingertips on her skin for a moment and he slowly began to guide her with his hands, her hips moving up and down in a steady rhythm as his moved to meet them. “Told you I had done this before.” He teased through a groan and she laughed breathlessly.  
  
“I believe you.” She said and he bit her shoulder lightly, dragging a moan from her.  
  
“I’m not going to last-” he admitted through a strangled groan and she pulled his hands up to cup her breasts.  
  
“You don’t have to.” She gasped and lowered her voice into a growl. “Fuck me, Alistair.” he nearly roared and bucked up hard, moving his hands back to her hips for leverage as he relinquished his careful control and thrust with abandon. The apex of each thrust tore a grunt from him and a gasp from her, moments later he let out a strangled cry, clutching her to him as he came, shaking and swearing.  
  


The hangover she had managed to shake before going on duty again, but the general illness she felt stayed. Far too much alcohol and not enough water, you’d think she’d reach a point in her life that meant she could be even slightly responsible when drinking. A memory from the night before skittered along the back of her mind, hands and mouths and soft moans. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose – she didn’t regret sleeping with him, to her he was a good person, kind and a good friend. The only issue is he was the _King_ and regardless of if they felt anything for each other – because there was always the fact that it could have been a fling, she wasn’t that naïve – he was married to Queen Anora who could make Ivy’s life painful if she wanted to. Not to mention that a scandal could hurt Alistair, it was one thing to take a mistress from the flocks of noblewomen that surrounded him, it was another thing altogether to take one from his own guards.

The same man that was haunting her thoughts rounded the entrance with a smile, he was still in his formal clothing having probably just left some diplomatic meeting and without a word he picked up her hand, shuffling up her sleeve to expose her wrist.  
  
“The Maker is a shit,” he said as he tied a leather band around her wrist, it had a long sprig of a plant Ivy didn’t recognise woven into it along with a singular light purple crystal, he slipped it next to the necklace that the Arishok had given her which she still wore to serve as a warning to herself, “and it _would_ be within his sense of humour that I would get you pregnant in a day after trying with Anora for years so I thought I’d get you this.” She turned her wrist and looked at it, it was well made and thrummed against her skin with a low energy. She looked at him and raised her eyebrow in question. “ _I know_ , I know. I shouldn’t be pushing contraception on you, it’s your body and I don’t have the right to-”  
  
“Oh!” Ivy said and smiled which relaxed him instantly. “I was wondering about what you did here for contraception.” She had been for a long time but it was pushed to the back of her mind, she wasn’t exactly in a hurry to fuck her way through Thedas and she hadn’t _planned_ on being intimate with Alistair. Running his fingers through his hair he leaned against the wall with a sigh, they were quiet for a while, just enjoying being in each others presence.  
  
“There has been an attack in Kirkwall.” He said all of a sudden and Ivy’s jaw clenched, she looked to him and waited for him to continue. “The Chantry was destroyed and it sparked a rebellion of the mages.”  
  
“How long ago?” she asked quietly, feeling that her time in Ferelden was drawing to a close.  
  
“A few days. A rebellion of that size, _Maker_.” Alistair groaned and scrubbed at his face. “You know I honestly thought after the Blight that we would see at least a decade of peace. Idiot, I know. But this, this is going to spread everywhere.”  
  
“And quickly.” Ivy said flatly. “A matter of weeks before the word is spread throughout the Circles, probably skirmishes in the regional areas in a month.” She swallowed thickly, wondering about her friends in Kirkwall. Should she have warned them? Was allowing Anders to continue the right thing to do? Without him the mage rebellion wouldn’t have begun for much longer, but without the rebellion Knight-Commander Meredith’s insanity wouldn’t be revealed, Cullen and Hawke would be stuck in Kirkwall well into the time Corypheus made life hell, Cullen may not have even been able to leave the Templars to join the Inquisition, without him would they succeed?  
  
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Alistair said quietly to her guessing that she was thinking about the Knight-Captain in the middle of it all.  
  
“ _Fine_ would be far from it, but he’s alive, I’m sure of it.” She said and he smiled tightly. “Alistair,” she said quietly so she wouldn’t be overheard being so informal with the King, “I’m going to have to leave soon.” She said and he stared at his feet, arms crossed over his chest as the breeze ruffled his golden hair and red tunic.  
  
“I thought as much.” He replied quietly.  
  


Weeks later Ivy was in the Mess Hall eating a broth made out of mysterious meat when the ground tremored, the plates on the table trembled for a second, the stock of her broth rippling.  
  
“You feel that?” a guardsman across from her asked, uncertain if he did. She nodded and pushed her food away, she had a sickly feeling as to what it could have been.  
  


A week after that she was called into the King’s office by one of his personal guards. She stood to attention in front of Alistair as he shuffled paper around on his desk in frustration. He stood up and with a sigh walked to a shelf and poured himself a drink, something she noticed he was doing more often.   
  
“Rutherford has left Kirkwall.” He said flatly, probably putting on a show for the guards who stood to attention by the door to the large room. “He was named Knight-Commander of the Kirkwall Circle and kept the position until he was approached by the left and right hands of Divine Justinia, shortly after that the conclave that the Divine was holding to broker peace between the Mages and Templars was attacked, as far as we know there were no survivors.” He looked to her as if to gauge her reaction, she remained still, her face blank. He huffed and waved to the guards at the door, dismissing them and remaining quiet until they left the room and closed it behind them.

Alistair walked and stood in front of her, a slight frown crinkling his forehead.   
  
“Cullen has informed me that he will be here to collect you tomorrow.” He said quietly and Ivy’s surprised reaction made him smile tightly. “Wherever he is going, he intends on taking you with him.” Something in his expression made her heart wrench and she gave him a sad smile in return.  
  
“Perhaps it is for the best.” She said and he huffed a laugh. He stepped away and paced the room, his hands scratching at his hair to muss it up and spike in awkward places.  
  
“You don’t have to go.” He rasped in exasperation and she stepped in front of him to stop his pacing and get his attention. “You could stay here, if you wanted.” She sighed and his hands tentatively reached to rest on her hips, pulling her closer to him, she trailed her fingers along the embroidery of his tunic and avoided his eyes like a coward.  
  
“I have to go.” She said quietly and felt him tense under her hands. “I can’t explain why but I need to help, I wouldn’t be able to stay knowing that they might need me.” He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a close embrace.  
  
“Of course you do.” He said bitterly. “And I couldn’t bear to live with myself if I kept you from doing what you thought was right.” He kissed her deeply, a sad, longing kiss that pricked the corners of her closed eyes with a tear. Reluctantly he pulled back, still holding her and smiled. “Just in case I don’t get the chance to do that again.”  
  


The next day Ivy had packed everything that belonged to her, taking the armour that she had been so accustomed to from wearing it over the last couple of years and repairing it while she could. She had mixed feelings about leaving Ferelden, while it was good to her in her friendship with Alistair it was also one of the hardest times of her life, the constant bullying and having to do nothing while her friends in Kirkwall suffered put her to the test more than she would like to admit. It was almost worse than when she first came to Thedas. She left her cot immaculately clean, ready for the next unfortunate rookie to occupy and left her bag at the door ready to go. All in all she really only had the clothes on her back, her armour, sword – which she wore - and a book with charcoal that was in her bag. She claimed some rations which she tucked under the lip of the bag and made her way to the courtyard, ready for her day.

Alistair was dressed regally and talking to the Guard Captain as she walked out of the barracks, spying her he dismissed the Captain a mischievous smile on his face.  
  
“Volkev,” he greeted her and she bowed to him, “follow me.” She did as instructed and they made their way to the stables, escaping the cool autumn morning. He led her to a stall in which a palomino mare was chewing lazily, she didn’t know much about horses but knew that she was a Ferelden Charger since that was about all this stable catered for.  
“She’s gentle.” He said and stroked its nose, earning a tail flick from the mare. “I remember you told me that you couldn’t ride very well.” He smiled at Ivy’s confused expression.  
  
“My King?” She asked and he huffed a laugh.  
  
“You’ll need her if Rutherford is dragging you around Thedas.” He quipped and she shook her head in astonishment.  
  
“I can’t accept her.” She whispered and he gave her a skeptical look. “You can’t just _give_ me a horse.”  
  
“I’m a King.” He said with a grin. “I can do whatever I want, now be gracious and say thank-you.” She pet the horse gently, her cheeks pinking from the gesture as she thanked him.

In the early afternoon she was summoned to a chamber in the east wing of the castle, it was typically used for talking to delegates and diplomats but the excited thrum in her spine told her someone else was waiting for her. She paused before she came into view of the open door, looking down at her armour and straightening it, tucking her unruly curls back behind her ears and generally fussing. Taking a deep breath she told herself to stop stalling and walked calmly into the room.

The first person she noticed was the Queen, sitting regally on a plush chair, her blonde hair swept up high and dressed in white and pale green silks. She really was a beautiful woman. Across from her Alistair was standing, leaning on a chair casually with a drink in his hand and looking splendidly pensive in his deep blue tunic. And between the both of them, further back in the room and leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, staring into the low flames was Cullen. His riding leathers were dirty and he looked tired, he couldn’t have arrived much more than an hour ago – certainly because the Queen would have urged him to bathe and change.

Ivy stopped five metres away from the royals, she wasn’t permitted to be any closer, and bowed deeply. Sensing the presence of someone new in the room Cullen turned and froze, his eyes taking in her form as she straightened up. His lips twitched with a smile but he forced his face to remain blank. She stood to attention and the silence in the room was tense.  
  
“ _Commander_ Rutherford has asked that you return to his service.” Alistair said, stressing Cullen’s new title. “As we discussed previously the decision is yours, Volkev. If you wish to stay there is a place among the Guard for you.” Alistair’s face was closed off, business like, as was Cullen’s. Anora looked bored and generally irritated by Ivy’s presence.  
  
“Thank you, My King.” Ivy said. “But I wish to assist the Commander.” Alistair blinked once and nodded, taking a long gulp from his drink.  
  
“Will you stay the night Cullen?” Alistair asked and Cullen shook his head.  
  
“Unfortunately there is a crisis we must attend to and it will take us days to arrive as it is. If you’ll allow it I’ll refresh my horse and we’ll be on our way.” Cullen said flatly.  
  
“Of course. Resupply from our stores as well.” Alistair said before placing his drink down on the table.  
  
“Thank you, your majesty.” Cullen said before bowing and walking out of the room, gesturing for Ivy to follow him.

They were mounted and ready to go barely fifteen minutes later. Ivy wanted to stop, to take a moment to hold Cullen in one place and check to see if he was alright, to see if he was hurt in any way but he kept up a quick stride. He hadn’t said one word to her since arriving, not even the barest of nods to acknowledge her presence. Her horse had been saddled and packed with her bag, a roll of fur on the back of the saddle for when they needed to stop and make camp and a week’s worth of rations in the saddlebag along with a couple of elfroot potions and bandages – the standard a soldier or messenger would have to carry while travelling. The King watched with his wife from the large stairs that led into the castle, nodding his head to them both as Cullen kicked his horse into a gallop, they would have to ride hard to pass the borders of Denerim before nightfall.  
  


They made it to the North Road and headed west for about an hour, pushing their horses hard to gain as much ground as possible. Cullen didn’t speak, just look back every ten or so minutes to make sure she was still following him. Her thighs, back, shoulders, _everything_ ached by the time they pulled off the road and made for an outcrop of trees five hundred metres or so away. A small stream idled through the cluster of trees and Cullen dismounted, leading his horse to drink as he splashed his face with water. Ivy slowed her horse to a stop behind him and did the same, the water was amazingly cold along her face and neck and she sighed in satisfaction. Glancing to Cullen he looked away from her abruptly, standing quickly and looping his horses’ reigns over a low branch.  
  
“Mind the horses.” He ordered. “I’m going to find wood.” And before she could reply he had jumped over the small stream and strode into the thicker cluster of trees.

The sun had set and a small fire was burning to stave off the chill and the wild animals. Cullen sat and stared at the fire, tenderly touching a gash on his upper lip as Ivy meditated.   
  
“Did you know?” Came his sudden voice, Ivy opened her eyes slowly and noticed he was still staring at the fire, leaning forward as he sat on a small log. He met her eyes and in them swirled a frustration, he knew what she was, what she could do, but couldn’t believe that she knew about what happened?  
  
“Cullen-” she began and he cut her off again.  
  
“Yes or no.” he growled. “Did you know about what would happen after you left?” He stared her down and she met his gaze without flinching.  
  
“Yes.” She said flatly and he cringed.  
  
“Maker fucking dammit.” He hissed and stood suddenly, pacing as he tried to get his anger out somehow. “I trusted you.” He snapped. “I fucking _trusted_ you. Do you have any idea how many people died? How many more are going to die?”  
  
“Yes.” She said quietly and he stared at her incredulously.  
  
“You’re not even sorry are you?” he hissed and stared down at her. “Why didn’t you say something? _Anything?_ ” She looked down, shame pooling in her chest like cold ooze.  
  
“Because the more I interfere the worse things become.” She said quietly and Cullen stopped in his tracks, dropping to sit on the ground in a huff and cradling his head in his hands.   
  
“She went insane.” He rasped. “Meredith, she was-” he stopped and looked up, his hand over his mouth.  
  
“The idol.” Ivy said simply and he nodded. “Red lyrium, it’s going to spread.”  
  
“Why tell me that if you just make things worse?” he snapped and she shrugged.  
  
“Telling you that lyrium is going to grow out of the ground won’t stop it from happening.” She said calmly, staring into the fire. “It’s already there, you’ll see evidence of it soon. But telling you that your commanding officer is going to go mad, try to kill everyone and bring the statues outside of The Gallows to life would spur you to try and prevent it. And if you got killed, who would help Hawke in defeating her?”  
  
“You don’t know that’s what I would have done.” Cullen said and Ivy gave him a tight smile.  
  
“I know you well enough that you would have decided that risking your life on a chance of success would be preferable to sacrificing others.” She said and he stared at her before picking at the grass idly.  
  
“You tried to stop the Arishok.” He pointed out.  
  
“And for that effort I have blood on my hands.” She said in a whisper as he threw the grass he had plucked into the fire.  
  
“I take it you already know where we are going?” he asked and she nodded. “Are you going to help us?” there was a pause between them, he twirled more grass between his fingers as she watched.  
  
“I will do what I can.” She said flatly and he looked up to meet her eyes. “I will fight, if nothing else.”  
  
“I suppose I can’t ask any more of you.” He said bitterly and she smiled.  
  
“You can always ask, Commander.” She said and he smiled tightly. “No matter the request, I’ll always do my best for you.”

  
They arrived in Haven with little fanfare and went straight to work, Cullen becoming instantly swamped with directives and trying to pull together an army out of refugees and ex-soldiers. A few Templars followed him from Kirkwall but most fled back to their homes once the Circle fell. Ivy took up the rank of Captain, although she wasn’t overly sure _why_ Cullen promoted her to it, and she became his personal messenger mostly because she was the fastest in the ranks and he trusted her with the sensitive information. It meant she spent a lot of time with him and shared his hours – and he just about never stopped working.

When Varric arrived a couple of days after her accompanying Seeker Cassandra, Ivy jumped from the battlements and tackled him into the snow. He fell with a startled yelp and struggled as she laughed and hugged him, unrelenting in her grip as he twisted to see who had managed to get the drop on him. He looked down at the mass of auburn curls and smiled widely, slapping a handful of snow into her cheek in greeting.  
  
“Biggest fucking disaster since the blight,” he joked as he pulled her into a headlock and rubbed more snow into her scalp and she squealed, “of course _you’re_ here!”  
  
“Oh please.” She laughed as she reluctantly let him go and scooped some snow to spray at his face. “I’m just stalking you because I want you to write my memoirs.” Cullen’s disapproving throat-clear interrupted their reunion and Ivy looked up at him with a pout.  
  
“ _Captain_ ,” he warned, “please behave as per your rank. Our soldiers are very impressionable.”  
  
“Good to see you’ve kept your humour, Curly.” Varric quipped as they stood, brushing the snow from their clothes.  
  


It was a week later when Ivy stopped and realised just _where_ she was, she stood outside the chantry, the cold wind whipping her hood around her face, the people solemnly working together to figure out the breach. The breach. Ivy turned and looked to the green scar in the sky, swirling and flickering as it emanated a sickly green light. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared, the overwhelming feeling of unpreparedness hitting her.  
  
“Ivy?” Cullen’s voice from behind her as he walked up, watching her as she watched the breach.  
  
“We’re actually here.” She said in an amazed whisper and he touched her arm in concern. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If some are confused; I made it to be two years from the retreat of the Qunari to the Chantry blowing up. I'm not 100% sure that's the proper timeline (it might be three?).
> 
> And thanks to everyone who's been Kudosing and commenting, I really enjoy reading your take on what's going on and to be honest, half the time one of you will say something and it will make me rethink my approach and (hopefully) make the story more detailed. I usually post late at night and when I wake up to see all your comments it makes my day great! <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you completely lost your senses?” he scolded her as she looked to the ceiling, trying to give him privacy.

Dagger in hand she was sitting on a small tree stump by the outer wall as she sliced apart a pear and chewed on the pieces one by one. It was early morning and she had about an hour until she had to begin running errands for Cullen. The morning was peaceful despite the skirmishes further towards the temple and she was enjoying the quiet until the sound of soft steps in the snow sounded in front of her and a throat was cleared.  
  
“Captain Volkev?” The voice asked and she looked up with a bored expression to see an elvhen man standing in front of her, his clothes worn and staff simple as if it were made to look like a walking stick. He didn’t wear shoes which seemed ridiculous since there was snow everywhere and he was bald, his angular features familiar. She huffed a sigh. _Solas._ “The soldier at the gates turned me back to seek your permission to enter Haven.” He said flatly and she looked him over.  
  
“Through the gates, up the path to the left until you reach the old Chantry building. Across from its doors you’ll find Leliana. If you intend on helping she will want to ask you a few questions first.” She said flatly and he quirked a half-smile at her.  
  
“And what if I am here to trade?” he asked with amusement.  
  
“You’re not.” She said dismissively and he tilted his head slightly in question, she sighed and kicked up dirt to bury the core of the pear she had been eating. “This is a soldier camp, not a thriving trade post. We have no supplies to spare and anyone coming here for trade would do much better bringing their own wares to sell. You’re clearly a mage and since most of the mages in the area got blown up they’ve been keeping their distance.” She buried the core, shifting the dirt back over with her foot before standing. “If you think you can help then I’m not going to turn you away, as long as that _is_ your intention.” She crossed her arms and he nodded once to her.  
  
“You’re quite perceptive.” He said with that half smile and she grunted.  
  
“I have my moments.” She said dismissively before leading him into Haven as her mind whirred, she promised herself that she wouldn’t interfere anymore and he would be invaluable, the Inquisitor-to-be’s life depended on him. But it was going to be damned hard to hold back.  
  


It wasn’t long before her dreams took on a familiar scene, each night for over a week it showed her a woman running through the rocky, barren, sickly green of the fade. Giant spiders chasing her as she reached for a glowing spirit. Each dream ended with the woman touching the outstretched hand of the spirit and Ivy would wake up with a shout. Cullen noticed it in the way her skin was becoming ashen and the few times he saw her crawling out of her tent to take in several long breaths of the freezing air while he was patrolling at night. Varric saw it because she had taken the tent across from his and the poor guy was woken each night by her shouts.

Gossip of her nightmares spread through the ranks and to their credit Cullen and Varric had already discussed how to explain away her odd behaviour, coming up with the cover that she was in Ferelden during the Blight and went on some dangerous missions that she couldn’t talk about. As cover stories went, post-traumatic stress fit quite well and out of respect the soldiers never questioned her about it but she felt guilty, she knew soldiers that suffered it and she hated to use it as an excuse.  
  
“Captain.” A group of recruits approached her outside of the walls after Varric had spun his tale of her throughout Haven. “Just thought we’d let you know that we have no issues if you’d prefer to pitch your tent closer to the rest of the troops.”  
  
“Uh, Thanks.” She said a bit confused, the oldest of the group nodded before clapping her arm in a friendly gesture.

Cullen later found her by the chantry and pushed some fruit into her hand before beginning to discuss fortifications and securing resources to find whomever was responsible for destroying the conclave, demons were still a massive issue in the areas closer to the breach and the soldiers were preparing for another large-scale assault on the area.  
  
“I hear the soldiers told you to move your tent closer to them.” He said with a smile and Ivy glared at him while biting into the apple with a crunch.  
  
“Yes they seem to think that it will help me sleep at night. What with my mysterious past and all.” She said unhappily.  
  
“It means they like you. Don’t dwell on it.” He said and adjusted her armour slightly. “You ready to head to the front?” She nodded as commotion was heard towards the gates, a group of soldiers were carrying a Kossith woman on a stretcher, she was unconscious and the civilians were beginning to shout. A solder sprinted up the path to Ivy and Cullen, bowing swiftly as he gave his report.  
  
“It’s a Qunari, Ser,” the soldier said, assuming that because the woman had horns that she was Qunari, “there was activity by one of the smaller rifts and she just, _fell_ _out_ of it.”  
  
“Take her to the dungeons.” Cullen said quickly, striding down the path to meet the soldiers. “Inform Seeker Cassandra and the Spymaster of this.” Ivy stepped up beside Cullen and he gave her a sideways glance, Ivy had her shield on her arm, wary of the growing mob of people. “Keep the civilians out of the main building until we figure out what is going on.” He ordered her and she nodded, striding forward and waving at some nearby soldiers to form up a barrier with her. As they held back the onlookers Ivy glanced over her shoulder to see the Commander disappearing into the building with the woman.  
  


They continued to the front as planned, relieving the soldiers there and bringing fresh supplies. Their squad engaged demons who poured out of a rift while Ivy and a few other medics and mage healers tended to the wounded, most were sent back to Haven to rest but quite a few had died in the cold nights and their corpses taken to the nearby bridge to be wrapped and have the Chantry Rites said over them by the few Lay sisters who came to help.

A couple of days into holding back the demons Ivy was exhausted, her left arm numb from holding her shield and covered in all sorts of demon guts and blood. They swapped out with another squad occasionally to rest but it was fitful, the sounds of close fighting keeping them from sleeping. She kept her satchel full of healing supplies slung across her shoulders, the bulk of it sitting on her lower back for the times where one of their soldiers were injured, the surrounding men would rush to them if they could, covering Ivy as she staunched the bleeding as much as possible before dragging the wounded back to safety.   
  
“The Maker certainly took a shit on us.” One of the wounded laughed deliriously as she dragged him along the ground, his legs had taken a bolt of some kind of arcane energy from a demon and they were sizzling and blistering, the skin falling off like his legs had been in a slow cooker for hours, there wasn’t much she could do for him, but the healers could neutralize the magic causing the decay.   
  
“I doubt the Maker had much to do with it.” She said with a grunt as she reached the safety of the short fortifications and a mage ran up to cast magic over his legs. “Alright Corporal, I’m going to leave you in the hands of the most beautiful mage we’ve got.” She said with a grin and a wink and he huffed out a weak laugh while the mage rolled her eyes. With a clap on his shoulder and a smile to reassure him she stood and returned to the fighting.   
  
“You’re in a good mood.” Cullen shouted over the clash of weapons at her when she returned and cut down a demon that was trying to flank her Commander.  
  
“It’s a good day.” She shouted back as she slammed her shield into the fallen demon, her sword slicing at its ethereal-yet-leathery skin as it gurgled and melted back into the ground to leave a pool of poisonous residue.  
  
“How do you figure?” Cullen asked as he cut his opponent down and stepped back breathing hard. Ivy turned to look over her shoulder, the rift imploding in on itself in a shatter of green and then Cassandra was running up to the Commander with the Kossith woman in tow.  
  
“Things are finally looking up.” Ivy said with a tired grin as the remaining demons fell back, giving the soldiers a much needed breather.  
  
“Seeker Cassandra, you managed to close the rift.” Cullen said to her as she approached.  
  
“It was the prisoner.” She said and Cullen looked the woman over, she stood tall as she clutched a staff, her white hair tumbling messily over her shoulder and short horns sweeping back from her head. Behind her Solas and Varric waited patiently, it seemed the four of them fought their way to the front.  
  
“Well,” Cullen said grimly giving an Ivy a suspicious glance, “I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of men already.” He said to the prisoner who frowned and crossed her arms under her breasts.  
  
“I’m doing the best I can.” She said with annoyance and Ivy inwardly cringed, the first words out of the woman’s mouth _had_ to be arrogant didn’t they? It just set a bad tone over the next few years. Cullen shook his head before ignoring the woman and turning to Cassandra.  
  
“Leliana is up ahead, we’ve cleared the way for you.” He said before turning on his heels and helping a limping soldier return to the makeshift camp.  
  


They began to move and Varric winked at Ivy, she noticed a gash on his arm and held her hand up to him, signalling to stop. She rummaged in her satchel and pulled out a small elfroot potion and gave it to him.  
  
“Thanks buttercup.” He said with a grin and Ivy rolled her eyes at the teasing endearment, the exchange was watched by the others, Cassandra and Solas passively while the woman was annoyed.  
  
“Buttercup?” The woman sneered. “What kind of name is that? Surely it isn’t real.”  
  
“Of course it is.” Ivy deadpanned and Cassandra rolled her eyes, Varric drank the potion to hide his smile. “And considering everyone here protected you while you were dying for the past few days it might pay to hold off on the attitude.” She said before wishing Varric luck and leaving to assist the healers.

Word came through the ranks that the prisoner closed the large rift at the base of the temple and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, she might not have closed the big one in the sky but it meant that the little ones on the ground weren’t going to keep spawning and throwing demons at their soldiers.  
  
“Apparently her name is Adaar.” A soldier said to Ivy as she was stitching him back together at one of the stations closer to Haven. “They’re saying she’s chosen by Andraste, what do you think Captain? A Qunari chosen by our Andraste?” he asked as he winced.  
  
“I think someone could be chosen by darkspawn and I wouldn’t care as long as they could close those rifts.” She said and smiled at him before piercing his flesh for another stitch.  
  


When Cassandra announced the reforming of the Inquisition a surge of patriotism swept through the ranks. The soldiers rallied under the banner, their goal now clear – seal the breach in the sky. Haven was a buzz of excitement, a new hero had stepped forth, one apparently chosen by Andraste herself.

Leliana approached Ivy in the middle of this excitement, Ivy had been polishing and adjusting her armour by her tent when the Spymaster stopped in front of her casually.  
  
“Captain.” She said with a smile, for someone who had apparently survived playing _the game_ in Orlais she was overly transparent when she wanted something.  
  
“Nightingale.” Ivy said in response. “How may I assist?” Leliana sat on the low wall beside her and spoke quietly, looking about as if she were discussing the weather with a friend.  
  
“I’ve heard that you can speak Qunlat.” She said casually and Ivy managed not to pause in her actions to freak out.

"Been speaking to the Commander have you?" Ivy asked carefully and Leliana just gave her a small smile. “I’ve dabbled.” She said and Leliana gave her a measured look.  
  
“Dabbled enough to be able to throw an insult to Adaar?”   
  
“If you’re wanting to know if she is Qunari you can rest easy.” Ivy said flatly. “She’s a mage. If she were a part of the Qun she would have been made tranquil and had her mouth sewn shut.”  
  
“Is it unreasonable to consider that she could have been sent to keep tabs on us? Or, even worse, that the Qunari are responsible for opening the Breach and this woman is a part of that?”  
  
“Surely you’ve already looked into her background, Spymaster.”  
  
“Of course.” Leliana sounded mildly insulted. “But it doesn’t hurt to cover our bases. Even if she is not Qunari now, if she has an understanding of the language it will tell us that she has lied about her past.”   
  
"And insulting Andraste's Chosen will determine this for you?" Ivy put her armour down into the opening of her tent, smiling to Leliana as she turned. “Well, I’ll never give up a chance to hurl insults at someone.” Ivy said with a grin. “Lead the way.”

Ivy walked into the War Room with Leliana on her heels. Adaar was there looking over the map with Cullen, Cassandra and Solas and they all looked up at her expectantly. Adaar was glaring at Ivy for the intrusion and Ivy put her hand on her hip in an act of arrogance.  
  
“ _Saarebas vashedan_.” Ivy said loudly to her. “ _Ebra-hissal eva-lok defransdim_.” She was met with a blank and confused stare, Adaar looked about at the others warily as they turned to her expecting her to reply.  
  
“I, uh.” Adaar began and Leliana stepped up beside Ivy.  
  
“Thank you, Captain.” She said apparently satisfied.   
  
“Anytime. Happy to help.” Ivy said with a grin before she walked out of the War Room.  
  


When she dropped by Cullen’s quarter later that day to deliver a package of requests and letters she was greeted by his half naked form, he was by a bowl of water and running a damp cloth over his torso standing only in his breeches. He turned to look at her as she quickly apologised and began to back away and he gestured for her to come in anyway, demanding she close the door behind her.  
  
“Have you completely lost your senses?” he scolded her as she looked to the ceiling, trying to give him privacy. “Barging in shouting _Qunlat_ of all things? Anyone who heard how fluent you are would be suspicious straight away.”  
  
“Normally I would agree with you.” Ivy said as she found something really interesting to look at on the desk. “But Nightingale already knew that I spoke it, I assumed you let it slip.” He frowned at her and walked over as if he was thinking.  
  
“It is possible.” He admitted quietly. “I thought I had covered up all possible information on you before I left Kirkwall. Are you feeling alright? You’re flushed.”  
  
“ _Maker, Cullen put a shirt on.”_ She stressed and he accidentally let a short burst of laughter past his lips.  
  
“Seriously? You lived with shirtless men for years.” He teased and she closed her eyes dramatically.  
  
“Your armour doesn’t come off.” She half laughed and covered her eyes with her hands. “My delicate senses can’t handle it.”   
  
“Fine, fine.” He drawled and she heard him rummage around. “Better?” Ivy slowly opened her eyes and he was wearing a loose linen tunic, the top was half undone and as he crossed his arms over his chest the fabric shifted, revealing the long line of his neck and a collarbone. She was quiet for a moment and he raised his eyebrows at her waiting patiently for her reply.  
  
“I need a drink.” She said suddenly before leaving the room.  
  


As she sat by the campfire outside of her tent with Varric she took a long drink from a bottle of brandy that she had swiped from Ferelden before leaving for Haven.   
  
“You reckon I could get away with writing a story about this place?” Varric asked absently as he held his hand out for the bottle, his fingers wriggling impatiently.  
  
“I think Cassandra would cut off your hands to prevent it.” Ivy said as she handed the bottle over.  
  
“Nah. She likes me, just won’t admit it to herself.” he said with a chuckle. “So where do you reckon this will all go now?” he asked offhandedly before handing the bottle back.  
  
“Your guess is as good as mine.” She replied and he let out a disbelieving laugh.  
  
“I think we both know that yours is going to be _much_ better than mine.” Varric drawled as they heard the sound of a throat clearing and they turned to see Cullen standing by Varric’s tent.  
  
“I hope that is the last of that conversation.” Cullen said quietly before sitting carefully by the fire, holding his hand out for the brandy.  
  
“You put your armour back on?” Ivy asked with a smile as he took a long drink, clearing his throat as it burned.  
  
“Well, apparently it affected some _delicate_ sensibilities.” He quipped and shot her a half smile, Varric looked between the two of them curiously before a smile slowly spread across his face.  
  
“Maybe I’ll write a romance serial instead.” Varric said as he gestured in the air as if the title were a Broadway sign. “Heartache in Haven.”  
  
“Awful title.” Ivy jabbed.  
  
“Terrible.” Cullen confirmed flatly. “And if you write it I’ll burn every copy.” Varric laughed lazily as he settled back on a barrel, smiling to himself.  
  


A month later, in a bid to stabilize Ferelden and gain some support to close the breach in the sky, Adaar took Solas and Varric to the Hinterlands. Two weeks into their absence Cullen approached Ivy with a letter.  
  
“I need you to take this to Arl Teagan of Redcliffe.” He said as she took it and looked it over suspiciously, it was just plain parchment folded over and sealed with wax – nothing to show its importance or unimportance. “Apparently he is currently doing a tour of the Bannorns and the information in that letter is sensitive.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “I can’t send it by raven and you’re the one I trust the most to get the task done.” Ivy held up a hand for him to stop and gave him a smile.  
  
“Don’t worry Cullen, I’ll get it to him.” She said as she stood and placed the letter in her satchel. “I know my way around Ferelden and can blend into the background. I’ll leave at dawn.”  
  
“You’ll be careful?” he asked warily and she nodded. He glanced around quickly and seeing no one nearby pulled her into a tight hug. Her breath hitched in surprise and she carefully let her arms rest on his side, the armour still cold through his furry red mantle. “Its three days ride there.” He said quietly. “Three days there, one day rest and three days back. You’ll be back in a week.” He seemed to be reassuring himself more than her.  
  
“I’ll be fine.” She near whispered to him and he cleared his throat before stepping back.  
  
“I know.” He half believed it as he straightened his shoulders and returned to his duties.  
  


The trip from Haven to Redcliffe took just over a week, the fighting making it impossible to take the normal routes and she had to wind her way through the countryside, relying on an old map to find alternative routes. After much deliberation and argument over a few days the Arl finally handed her a letter to take back to Cullen.  
  
“Please let your Commander know that we believe in what the Inquisition is trying to do.” Arl Teagan said quietly as she took the letter from him. “But with the Mages and Templars pillaging the Bannorn we cannot give the support he asks.” Ivy bowed, thanking him for his hospitality and slowly made her way back to Haven.

The path that led to the gates of Haven was quiet, the fresh snow and sunshine made the day pleasant and Ivy leaned down and petted her horses’ flank, cooing at her appreciatively. The guards who were posted along the path and higher up on overlooks waved at her as she passed them greeting her happily. The Inquisition soldiers were different to the ones in Ferelden, Ivy thought with a smile, they all joined because they want to do something good rather than further their career and that seemed to make them more pleasant, more willing to help each other out.

The sounds of swords and shields clashing slowly grew louder as she approached Haven and every now and then she could hear Cullen’s voice booming as he yelled at the new recruits. He had been working them hard, worried about how green they had been against the demons that first crawled out of the Breach before the Inquisitor closed it and to their credit they were still standing, still pushing hard as their Commander trained them relentlessly.

Ivy dismounted just before the path curved and led to the gate, Haven didn’t have stables and so the few horses they had got tied up under a makeshift shelter next to the smithy, the heat from the forges helping to keep the horses warm. Her mare gave her a playful nudge as she handed the reigns to a soldier and thanked him, he would take off the saddle and brush her and check her shoes, sometimes Ivy would insist on doing it but today there was a message to be delivered and she was looking forward to seeing her friend again.

Halfway along the path she stopped in her tracks, just after the blacksmiths a new tent had been set up, slightly larger than the others that were outside the wall. In front of it some people gathered, talking as they warmed themselves by a fire, they weren’t dressed like Inquisition, their rough leathers and generally unkempt appearance telling her they were mercenaries. They were a mix of elves, dwarves and humans and seemed to be enjoying each other’s company even though they weren’t talking. Ivy forced herself to take another step, and another, her tight chest making it hard to breathe. She knew them, or at least of them, her mind was insistent of it.

When the last of their troupe rounded the corner of the gate striding purposefully along the snow her senses abandoned her, the air seemed to still and sounds fade away. The wide spread of horns too familiar and dragging up memories she had long forgotten. She stopped a few metres away from the tent, close enough that troupe turned to face her and their leader stopped in his tracks. They seemed to regard each other for a long time, but in truth it was merely a few seconds. Her lips curled into a tight, sad, smile, hair whipping around her face and hood as she managed to form words.  
  
“Hey, Bull.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who did this to you?” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous.

She didn’t know what his reaction would be, always hoped it would be good but feared it would be bad, that he would blame her for the events in Kirkwall or try to kill her in the name of the Qun. He stared at her in recognition but didn’t move or speak, merely looked her over as she stood before him in her leather armour, the Inquisition symbol emblazoned on her chestpiece and her Ferelden cape moving in the wind. The crunch of snow under boots dragged her attention from Iron Bull and she saw Cullen striding up, a relieved smile on his face.  
  
“About time you showed up.” He half scolded her as he put his hand on her shoulder, his way of hugging her when he couldn’t or was in public. “I said one week, not two. Maker damn it you’re going to put me into an early grave.”  
  
“Apologies, Commander.” Ivy smiled at him tiredly before reaching into her satchel and producing the letter. “The fighting has escalated, especially in the Hinterlands, I had to turn back several times to find a safe way to get by.” He took the letter and tore the wax seal open, reading quickly before sighing and rubbing at his neck.  
  
“Well it was a long shot, guess no help from Ferelden then.” He said.  
  
“I spent some time at the refugee camps.” Ivy said, hoping to make him feel better. “Some retired soldiers were thinking of heading east but I convinced them to come our way instead.” He nodded and smiled, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.  
  
“You look exhausted. How long were you on half-rations?” he half scolded her and she gave him a knowing smile, he was obsessed with making sure she was eating properly, which was hypocritical since he hardly ever ate himself.  
  
“About as long as you have been by the looks of it.” Ivy said and he mockingly glared at her. He huffed a laugh and turned as if to escort her back into Haven when he stopped and noticed the mercenaries within earshot.  
  
“Ah, Captain Volkev this is Iron Bull.” He said and gestured to Bull who was watching their exchange with passive interest. “And this is his mercenary group, Bull’s Chargers.” Ivy nodded to them who waved or nodded back, they were still wondering about the relationship their leader had with the human woman. “They arrived yesterday from the Storm Coast, Adaar recruited them.”   
  
“We look forward to working with the Inquisition.” Iron Bull said flatly, as if it were an automatic reply.  
  
“They’re currently teaching our soldiers some survival skills that they lacked.” Cullen said approvingly, Ivy glanced at him curiously, it wasn’t like him to give the training of the recruits to someone else, especially mercenaries. He seemed to have a low opinion of them in general, Ivy figured it was just a case of him having a military stick up his butt.  
  
“I’m sure they’ll benefit greatly from it.” She said before turning to Cullen. “Commander if you’ll allow it I will visit the mess tent before giving my report.”  
  
“Of course, send for me when you’re ready. We’ll debrief in the War Room.” He slid back into his Commanding Officer persona before returning to put fear into his new recruits. Ivy spared one last look at the troupe, nodding to them before she walked away quickly.  
  


Fed and bathed Ivy entered the War Room. The exhaustion was catching up on her but the underlying adrenalin and worry from seeing Iron Bull kept her mid buzzing, she would report on the activity she saw in the Hinterlands and then she would try to sleep, Iron Bull’s reaction upon seeing her wasn’t encouraging and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak to him again before he had processed her sudden presence. She wasn’t sure if she should sleep with a dagger tucked under the furs either.

Cassandra was waiting patiently near the small table which had a map of Thedas on it, markers showing troop movement and places of note. Ivy nodded to her in greeting and she returned it, they had spoken to each other a few times and Cassandra seemed to give Ivy a begrudging respect once she realised that Ivy could do her job well.

Ivy leaned against the wall, casually throwing an apple up and catching it while they waited on the Commander. One of the duties that Ivy took upon herself was making sure Cullen ate and so she had a tendency to throw fruit at him every now and then. It had gotten to the point that she was handing food to him at least once a day which he would accept with an eye roll, but then he did the same to her. She was convinced that he didn’t even eat when she was away, or just forgot.

The door opened and Cullen stepped in with Iron Bull behind him, they nodded to Cassandra who looked perturbed that the mercenary was in the War Room.  
  
“Iron Bull expressed an interest in hearing the report from the Captain.” Cullen said in explanation before stopping by the map with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Ivy stepped forward and tossed the apple to Cullen, which he caught and inspected before taking a bite. Iron Bull noticed the gesture but said nothing, instead patiently waited for Ivy to begin.

She explained any activity she saw in the areas, Cassandra and Cullen asking questions before changing or placing a marker and Iron Bull listened on without interrupting. Ivy had managed to get quite a bit of information and handed over quick sketches with details such as makeshift camps and possible enemies in the area.   
  
“The fighting is getting worse to the south, I had to turn back twice before finding a safe route north.” She explained. “While the camps are staying north patrols are starting to ransack the villages in the south west.”  
  
“Templars or mages?” Cullen asked.  
  
“Both.” She said with a sigh, Cullen had expressed his disbelief in the reports of previous Templar atrocities, but the evidence was beginning to be overwhelming. “Lyrium is becoming hard to find now, it seems that the Templars are heading to the smaller settlements to take any they can find before the Mages do, but it’s not just the Lyrium. They seem to be hell-bent on rounding up anyone who could be a mage without bothering to get proof.”  
  
“We have had reports of this before.” Cassandra said, her accent thick from tiredness. “They were interrogating them and then releasing the prisoners.”  
  
“That wasn’t what I saw, Seeker.” Ivy said quietly. “From what I could see they are now killing people who are under suspicion without interrogation.”  
  
“We need to increase our presence then.” Cullen said firmly. “Set up more camps, I’ll send word to the Inquisitor to scout for any possible locations. Was there anything else?”  
  
“No, Commander.” She said and he nodded, they had been in the room for a couple of hours now and she was ready to sleep for a week.  
  
“You make quite a good scout.” Iron Bull spoke up from the wall for the first time, he was wearing a half smile and she gave him one in return.  
  
“The Captain has many roles here.” Cullen said before he turned to her. “Her current one being to sleep until tomorrow.”  
  
“Yes Commander.” Ivy said with a wry smile, having been dismissed she made her way to her tent, crawled under the cold furs and promptly passed out.  
  


She awoke just before dawn and dressed into her warm clothes. She didn’t put on her armour yet, just her boots so she could get a chance to go for a jog around the outlying areas before Cullen began his day. He had a tendency to wake up at dawn as she did and so Ivy tried to get in as much time to run as possible. It helped her wake up and shake the cold in the mornings, not to mention she learned to have better footing in the ice and snow. She crawled out of her tent which was across from Varric’s and stretched. The soft snoring that usually would have emanated from the dwarf’s tent was absent and she let out a huffed laugh before taking off towards the gate in a jog.

Going around obstacles was boring so she began to train herself to jump, roll and generally be more agile much to the ire of the dawn watch who got a small fright each time she landed next to them, having jumped from a wall or ledge. They got used to it eventually and then the roster changed, giving Ivy the opportunity to scare new soldiers at dawn. She made her way to the lake before stopping, the sun cresting over the mountains and its light causing the ice of the lake to glitter and shimmer. Despite how awfully cold it was, Haven was beautiful.  
  
“How long are you going to follow me?” she called breathlessly and heard a soft swearing from the small cluster of trees to her left. Iron Bull stepped out and gave her a wry smile, upset that she spied him.  
  
“As long as I can, really.” He said offhandedly and stood a couple of steps from her, he was still bare-chested and Ivy wondered idly if he ever felt the cold. He looked her over and Ivy felt a pang of self-consciousness with red cheeks and panting from the run, her hair tied back as it tried to break free in a wild mess of curls. She met his look, hovering on the eyepatch he wore and let out a breathless huff of laughter to which he looked at her in confusion.  
  
“Told you you’d look good with the eyepatch.” She said and his stony expression didn’t change.  
  
“Does your Commander know you’re a fugitive of the Qun?” he asked flatly and her surprised look told him that _she_ didn’t even know she was one. He sighed and scratched at his stubble, looking to the ground in frustration.   
  
“You intend to arrest me, Bull?” she asked warily and he shook his head once.  
  
“Not in the slightest.” He said unhappily.  
  
“Going to report me?” she asked and he grunted in a shake of his head. “Why not?”  
  
“Not my mission.” He said simply.  
  
“And if it becomes your mission?” She asked warily and he didn’t respond. The silence spread between them and she looked behind her automatically in case someone was in earshot but all she saw was Haven in the distance. “I figured I’d be a fugitive in Kirkwall.” She spoke quietly as she stared out at the lake. “After the Qunari left I tried to run, didn’t get very far though. The Commander, he-” she swallowed thickly as she pushed back a memory of the Tal’Vashoth branding her, a flash of nauseous imagery that had a tendency to resurface every now and then. “He saved me, sent me away to Ferelden.”  
  
“The reports the Sten gave after they arrived back said you were conspiring with the Bas of the city.” He said flatly and Ivy didn’t reply, just stared out over the lake. “If that was the case why are you a fugitive in Kirkwall also?”  
  
“Because I still helped the Arishok, I fought beside him. If I stayed they would have made an example of me.” She said bitterly.  
  
“Ivy.” Bull said her name disappointingly and Ivy huffed.  
  
“Six years since you saw me last and you still want to scold me?” she said jokingly.  
  
“Six years and you still manage to give me reason to.” He jibed in return and they met each other’s look, he sighed with a curse and closed the distance between them, two long strides and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in against his warm chest and hugging her tightly. She tensed at first before relaxing, still wary of his intentions. “When I got here, you were nowhere to be seen.” He said quietly, his voice rumbling in his chest under her hands. “I wandered around looking for you longer than I care to admit, told my Chargers that I was scoping out the defences. By the end of the day I had it in my head that you were dead, hadn’t heard anything about you since the rumours from Kirkwall and that was two years ago.” He reluctantly let her go and she stepped back, cheeks flushed from the sudden intimacy. “I’m glad you are alive.” He said and she smiled tightly.  
  
“Yeah, me too.”  
  


As she beat down a rookie with a shield break during the morning training Cullen wandered over to talk quietly to her as he walked past.  
  
“You’re being watched.” He murmured to her and she grunted an affirmative before giving the rookie a hand up. Iron Bull had been keeping a close eye on her all morning, she had left him by the lake earlier to report to her station and since then she’d noticed him keeping a subtle eye on her activities. It didn’t overly bother her, knowing that as a Ben-Hassrath it would be a part of his duty to ascertain the extent of her role in the Inquisition, or more that he was curious if she was being used for her visions.  
  
“He’s probably watching you too.” She said quietly in return and he hummed.  
  
“I don’t like this.” He murmured before walking away to continue instructing the soldiers.  
  


The Inquisitor arrived the next day with Solas and Varric in tow, back from the Hinterlands where they were trying to help secure the area and gain support. The council was debriefing the Inquisitor, something that could take hours, and Solas and Varric returned to their respective resting areas. Ivy was returning to the chantry from the trebuchets with a condition report when she felt the splitting pain of a vision ebb along her mind and fade away again. She walked past the doors to the chantry, turning to walk down the outer wall and back towards an isolated area that was half shielded by the wall itself. They used it for storage, mostly empty crates at the time and she ducked behind a few large crates that was stacked on top of each other.

The vision panged again and she doubled over, trying to hold it back, she had been able to for the most part, the last couple of years she had very few visions simply because she could mentally hold them off but every now and then one was strong enough to break her defences. She fisted her hand and brought it to her mouth, stifling the pained sounds that were escaping from her and dropped to one knee, the snow crunching beneath her. She held the vision off through pure stubbornness, her head aching with each pulse until it faded and she deemed it safe to stand.

She ducked into the Commander’s quarters, which also served as his office, and placed the report on his desk. Cullen entered the room behind her, reading a different report that was in his hands.  
  
“Ah, is that the condition report?” he asked as he walked in, looking up he frowned at her before quickly dropping his paper on his desk and pulling out a small cloth from a draw. He folded it quickly and pressed it to her nose, his other hand on the back of her head to create pressure.  
  
“What-” Ivy began and he shushed her.  
  
“Your nose is bleeding.” He said quietly. “I thought you said you could hold the – you know - off?”  
  
“I can.” She said defensively. “Sometimes it is a bit hard though. No one saw me, its fine.”  
  
“Ivy.” He chided.  
  
“ _Cullen_.” She mocked him. “You’re looking into it too much. You’re like a mother hen.”  
  
“Well I’m sorry for wanting to make sure you’re okay.” He said sarcastically then grinned at her, he pulled the cloth back, wiping once more at her upper lip before being happy with the state of her face. His hand still resting on the back of her head he frowned. “You would tell me though, if something was wrong?” He asked and she smiled reassuringly at him.

The sound of a throat clearing at the doorway dragged their attention to Inquisitor Adaar and Iron Bull who were waiting just inside of the doorway. The two Kossith were watching the two humans with amusement as Cullen pulled his hand back abruptly, clearing his throat and straightening his spine.  
  
“Adaar.” He said as he stood to attention.  
  
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Commander.” Adaar said and Ivy heard a hint of amusement in her voice.  
  
“No of course-”  
  
“Because if you require time with your subordinate I can come back later.” She gave a sly grin and Cullen damn near flushed.  
  
“I will return to my duties.” Ivy said with a bow, hoping to spare her poor Commander from the opportunity to accidentally turn the situation into something it wasn’t. As she walked out of the room she noticed Iron Bull raising his eyebrow at her in amusement.  
  


Later that night Ivy raided the kitchens, she had been doing it a few times a week for a while now and at first the kitchenhands tried to chase her out but she kept coming back. Once they found out from another guard that pretty much all the food she was stealing she was giving to the Commander they begrudgingly accepted her thieving, even going as far as making up a small basket of food that she could just pick up and take without getting in their way. She picked up the basket with a nod to the cook who scowled at her and as she neared the door quickly snatched a bottle of wine and made her way out of the kitchen before they started to yell at her.

She walked into Cullen’s quarters without announcing herself, his door was open and candles lit so she wasn’t worried about walking in on any awkward situations, and kicked the door closed behind her. Cullen was pacing, faster than his usual _thinking_ stride, and didn’t even look up when she entered.  
  
“Oh dear,” Ivy said as she picked up a small tankard from his desk and poured some wine into it, “what has happened?”  
  
“You lived with the Qunari, what’s your take on them?” he asked and took the tankard that she offered him, not stopping in his pacing or looking at her.  
  
“That depends on what part of their culture you’re asking about.” She said offhandedly and picked up a piece of cheese from the basket, pairing it with some bread. “Here eat this.” She held it out to him and he shook his head.  
  
“You’ve never really talked about your time before Kirkwall.” He said quietly. “But you lived in Par Vollen for some time?” he assumed and she shook her head.  
  
“I’ll answer questions if you eat.” She said stubbornly and he sighed, taking the food from her hand on his next pass. She smiled to herself, getting him to eat was much harder than it should be and every day she had to find a new way to coerce him. “I was only in Par Vollen a year before I left for Kirkwall, after falling off a boat I woke up on their beach, some Sten found me and brought me into the capital. Coincidentally that’s when the visions started.” She sat on his desk, resting her feet on his chair as he continued to pace, generally he hated her doing that and it was telling to her that he didn’t scold her right away.  
  
“So you didn’t grow up in the Qun?” he asked and seemed to relax a little. She held out another piece of bread and he took it.  
  
“I was sent to learn with the other converts. Before the Arishok decided to take control of my learning that is.”  
  
“I’ve heard stories of the Qunari, never dealt with them personally on a diplomatic level. I’ve only got my experience from Kirkwall to make these kind of decisions.” He said quietly and Ivy snuck a drink from the bottle of wine.  
  
“What decisions?” she asked and he walked over to the desk, inspecting the basket of food distastefully before picking up a piece of salted meat.  
  
“Adaar has hired Bull’s Chargers on a condition, their leader, Iron Bull, is some kind of spy for the Qunari, he’s sending back reports about us to his superiors.” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m considering telling them to leave. Having such a security breach is something I cannot allow.” Ivy’s stomach churned and she stole a piece of bread, tearing it apart carefully.  
  
“What does Leliana say?” she asked.  
  
“Leliana is both for and against it. She is welcoming the control of information that gets sent to the Qunari since Adaar was smart enough to say that we get to read any reports sent. But she’s also worried about a spy being so close to the Inquisition.” He paused and resumed his pacing, Ivy watched him warily before sighing.  
  
“But Adaar is alright with it.” She said carefully.  
  
“She said so, but the way she looked at him.” Cullen shook his head. “I think she has a bit of a crush on him.”  
  
“You might not want to confront her with that.” Ivy said warily and he waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“I’m not getting between a Kossith woman and her interests, I value my safety too much.” He said with a huffed laugh.  
  
“What’s there to report, really?” she asked. “That the breach is still in the sky? Anyone can tell that by looking out the window.” He gave her a look that said she should know better.  
  
“I fear it may be more complicated than that, perhaps they see us as an opportunity to drive a wedge between countries that have a strong chantry influence.”  
  
“Well, Ferelden is still recovering from the Blight, the fighting between the Mages and Templars aren’t helping that. Orlais is in the midst of a civil war and the Free Marches are still reeling from Kirkwall, will be for some time. Starkhaven is stretched beyond its limits, what with only just getting Sebastian back on the throne and his need to send aid to wherever he can, honestly Cullen, if the Qunari were planning an all-out war, they don’t need to wait for us to do it.” She pointed out and he sighed in frustration.  
  
“Maybe its just _him_.” He pondered. “The way he watches and calculates.”  
  
“If I tell you something,” she began quietly, “promise me you won’t be angry.” He stopped and looked at her.  
  
“I’m not going to promise that.” He said carefully. “But you should tell me anyway.” She sighed and took another drink from the bottle.  
  
“I know Iron Bull from Par Vollen.” She said cautiously and he brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, pinching it as he made an exasperated groan.  
  
“You knew that he was-” he began to pace again.  
  
“Ben-Hassrath. Yeah. He’s one of the best too.” She said and Cullen’s jaw was clenching. “But he’s changed since I knew him last. He’s less concerned with the Qun, he’s been undercover too long I think.”  
  
“He knows about you.” Cullen said angrily. “What if he decides to turn you in?”  
  
“I’ve already asked.” She said and he scrubbed his face. “He’s said he won’t.”  
  
“It gives him something else to hold over our heads.” Cullen near yelled and Ivy jumped slightly from his raised voice. “I can’t believe you didn’t come to me with this, it’s just _another_ thing you’ve hidden from me.”  
  
“Iron Bull was forthright in his intentions.” Ivy snapped back. “There was no reason for me to tell you.”  
  
“It would be nice if you would let _me_ decide what I need to know for a change. I am, after all, your Commanding Officer.” He growled and Ivy hopped off his desk, suitably annoyed.  
  
“Are you seriously pulling rank on me?” She asked and he paced away with a growl.  
  
“Are you siding with the Qunari over the Inquisition?” he bit, gesturing in the air angrily.   
  
“You did _not_ just ask me that.” She said dangerously.  
  
“Perhaps you would prefer to return to Ferelden then.” He spoke as Ivy felt rage settle in her stomach. “I’m sure the King would appreciate your company.”  
  
“Cullen.” She said in warning and he huffed.   
  
“First the Arishok and then Alistair.” he said with a low voice. “Is it a prerequisite that the people you take on as lovers rule over a kingdom?” Her fist shot out quickly, a clean right hook that hit his cheekbone with a satisfying thud. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled away, his hand automatically reaching up to touch at the rapidly bruising skin. Ivy turned on her heels, opening the door with a slam and marching out of the office.  
  
“Marker dammit,” she heard him as she walked down the short hall of the chantry, a few onlookers watching curiously, “ _Ivy.”_ He yelled in a bid to stop her, but she was already out of the building.  
  


Solace was found in a large tree by the lake which she could punch to her hearts content. After pummelling it for a while she practiced her kicks, working herself to exhaustion to fight off the anger.  
  
“Lover’s quarrel?” Came the rumble of Bull’s voice and she ignored him, he waited for a moment before walking around her to sit on a boulder and watch quietly. “Your form is much better,” he said, “watch your footing though.”  
  
“What do you want Bull?” She snapped and he smiled tightly.  
  
“Just making sure you don’t run off again.” He said with a dismissive wave. “The Commander is out looking for you too. Sporting a nice shiner.” He paused for a moment. “Must have been quite a spat.”  
  
“We’re not lovers.” She growled and kicked the tree hard enough that snow fell down softly from the low branches.  
  
“Ah.” He said as he cleared his throat gently. “Good.” She sighed and stopped, her fists clenching to fight off the cold weather.  
  
“Why did you think we were?” she asked and he gave her a knowing smile.  
  
“All the signs are there, at least I thought they were.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. “But you’re just close friends huh?”  
  
“Until a certain point.” She said bitterly.  
  
“Want to talk about it?” he offered and she glared at him. “Well, how bout we just go have a drink.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to be seen with you right now.” She said quickly and he raised his eyebrows knowingly, he shifted and stood, walking closer to her.  
  
“Then the fight was about me then.” He moved close into her space and she didn’t step back, she didn’t want to be seen as being intimidated. “And what was your _position_?” He asked, purposefully slipping in the innuendo. She huffed a laugh and turned away, walking back to Haven in long steps.  
  
“Goodnight, Bull.” She drawled and left him standing in the snow.  
  


Cullen found her just outside of the walls, he ran up to her but halted suddenly before he reached her. His hand rubbing at the back of his neck he set his eyes downcast, refusing to look up at her.  
  
“Maker, Ivy I’m sorry.” He said quietly to the snow. “I don’t have an excuse, I’m not going to give one. What I said was not acceptable as either a soldier _or_ a friend.”  
  
“No.” She said. “It wasn’t.” he looked at her like a kicked puppy and she sighed, scrubbing her hands on her face. “But I can’t stay mad at you can I?” she said bitterly and he gave her a tight smile. “I’m not sorry for punching you though. You deserved it.” He nodded and she walked past, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she did. She walked back into Haven and crawled into her tent, feeling like she was getting too old to be sleeping in them.  
  


It was barely a week later when Ivy was jogging at dawn along the path that led east from Haven when another vision blindsided her. It hit her mid-step, causing her to slip and dive forwards and scratch her upper arm and back on a fallen branch. As the rest of her fall was broken by the fresh pile of snow her vision whited out, sounds of fighting echoing loudly as the dawn sky changed to night, a sickly red glow emanating from the horizon through the trees. As she looked up for where she lie prone, she saw the legs of soldiers running across towards Haven, the men were in plate armour, sickly looking with red eyes and shards of red crystal protruding from different parts of their bodies. Red Templars. As they passed her she closed her eyes, forcing the image back in her mind to shatter and break, leaving her in the cold dawn snow.  
  
“They don’t know, do they?” she gasped and turned to see Iron Bull walking over to her, his features grim which was a sign that he was worried. He knelt and reached out to help her sit up, groaning she dusted off the snow from her clothes and shook her head.  
  
“Cullen and Varric do.” She said quietly, meeting his eye. “But we decided not to tell anyone else.”  
  
“How have you managed to hide it for so long?” he asked incredulously.  
  
“Sheer willpower.” She said before going to stand, her ankle screaming in pain as she tried to put weight on it.  
  
“Hold on.” He said, stopping her from trying to walk, he went down on one knee in front of her, his back to her. “Jump on.” He said with a smile. “Let’s not test that ankle.” She let out a small laugh and carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he scooped her legs into his arms and effortlessly stood and carried her on his back, slowly walking the kilometre back to Haven. The smell of his skin was comfortingly familiar and Ivy found herself smiling.  
  
“Hey,” she said and he grunted, “I’m riding the Bull.” His laughter was loud and abrupt in the morning stillness and it brought her own laughter from her lips. They talked and joked the walk back, finding a happy familiarity that she thought they had lost.  
  


He carried her right into the healer’s building, some soldiers whistling at them as they walked past, and sat her on the table in the middle of the room. The cranky man who usually occupied the space was likely still asleep and so Bull rummaged to find a bandage.  
  
“Take this off.” He tugged at her shirt that had torn as she fell onto the branch, it was stained lightly with blood and she’d have to have the grazes disinfected.   
  
“Trying to get me naked already?” she teased as he pulled a small stool to be in front of her, sitting on it and carefully removing her boot to reveal a bruised and swollen ankle. He let out a long, low whistle before carefully prodding and moving the joint and once satisfied there was nothing broken began to wind a bandage around it.

With the ankle tended to he stood and took the hem of her tunic in hand, pulling it up and over her head and her arms automatically crossed over chest, part in cold and part for decency. She glared at him and he winked, happy with himself as he picked up an antiseptic balm from the shelf. He looked at her shoulder and hummed.  
  
“Not so bad.” He said and gently wiped the balm on her graze, it stung a little but faded quickly. “A bit on your back too.” He stepped around the table and paused, shifting her hair away from her back gently. Ivy knew he was looking at the brand, large and scarred in the middle of her shoulder blades. She didn’t say anything, didn’t really know what to, and eventually felt warm, gentle fingers touching her tentatively.  
  
“Who did this to you?” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous.  
  
“Tal’Vashoth.” She replied automatically without turning to look at him. He sighed deeply and she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck.  
  
“If I had been there-” he began but she cut him off.  
  
“No, Bull.” She said firmly. “I can’t think of _ifs_ or _buts_ , you’re here now and that’s what matters.” There was a pause and a press of lips against her brand. Long, as if it were asking for forgiveness.   
  
“You’re right.” He rumbled and his arm encircled her waist, pulling her close to him as he closed his eye and pressed his forehead to her hair. Her heart thrummed under the contact, her skin almost touch-starved. “I’m here now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt slightly bad leaving you all with the cliffhanger since you were so patient waiting for Bull to return, so have a chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen stood and walked around his desk with his hands up, nodding and trying to calm her. “I nearly fucked that up. Me.”

Her skin shivered under the heat of his hands, his arm encircling her waist as he breathed deeply. It was a moment of contentedness before her mind treacherously brought forth memories of another arm around her waist, another man’s warmth and her stomach churned, panic seizing her for a moment as she pulled away, jumping off the table and away from Bull quickly.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She breathed quickly as her chest tightened anxiously, snatching up her shirt she pulled it on recklessly. She tried to turn to Bull, to reassure him somehow, but her body refused to obey out of fear of what she may see.  
  
“Is it because of me?” he asked flatly and she stilled, looking down at a crate of empty vials. “Or because of the Arishok?” The shuffle of Bull’s careful steps echoed in the wooden building but he stayed his distance. “It was the first thing I noticed when you arrived.” He said almost to himself. “When you handed the letter to the Commander, the dragon tooth.” She resisted the urge to touch it, but her wrist felt suddenly heavy as if it knew it was being spoken about.  
  
“No.” She said flatly. “If anyone it is me. I’ve learned my lesson.” She looked up to him and his face was a passively blank mask. “Six years is a long time and I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know if you’ll decide to turn on me once your _mission_ changes.” He frowned and took a small step towards her.  
  
“That’s not why you jumped off the table just now.” He said softly and shook his head. “Don’t lie to a liar. If I had intention of turning you in I would have done so by now. The missing Seer responsible for the fall of the Arishok is far more valuable than a small group of zealots trying to fix the sky.”  
  
“His fall was his own doing.” She said defensively, hands clenching as she tried to hold back the tremors that ran through them. “I tried for _years_ to bring back the relic. I watched him go mad and remained by his side as he raised his hands to me in anger. His own arrogance was the cause of his death and I’ll be _damned_ if I let anyone put that on me. Even _you_.” She yelled before forcing herself to stop, to take a deep breath. He watched her as she calmed herself down, hands on her hips as she let as much air fill her lungs as possible.  
  
“You’re wrong.” He said quietly and she shot him a glare. “Six years, it’s not that long at all.” He took another tentative step forward, his hand resting on the table where she could see it and the other by his side passively, he was showing that he wasn’t a threat. “And neither of us have changed _that_ much. I’m still disobeying orders and you’re still as fiery as the days I found you in the dungeons.”  
  
“I can’t, Bull.” She said weakly before running her fingers through her hair. “I need to go.” She opened the door to the building, walking out swiftly before he could say anything more.  


With her mood sour and her mind swirling with dark thought and memories she threw herself into working on building the fortifications. The outer walls still had gaps in them and the inner walls were still shoddy enough to warrant concern. She was helping a bunch of the new recruits as they re-dug the trench and secured the logs that made up the wall. They seemed thankful for the help and Ivy was thankful for the distraction, besides, she had picked up a thing or two about fortification over the last couple of years and wanted to make sure that Haven was as ready as it could be when the red lyrium army attacks.  
  
“I’m pretty sure I told you to take the day off.” Ivy looked up to see Cullen standing above her with a frown, she was standing in the trench strapping the base of the log to its neighbour so his height towering over her wasn’t a trick of her brain. The recruits dropped tools and saluted, Cullen waving his hand dismissively and Ivy held back a smirk.  
  
“I’ll take a day off when you do Commander.” She said flatly and he raised his eyebrow at her.  
  
“Out of the trench, Captain.” He gave her a direct order and she climbed out, dusting the dirt off her hands. It was colder out of the shelter of the trench and she wasn’t wearing anything but her leggings, boots and linen shirt. Too hot for armour when digging. He gestured for her to follow and they walked just out of earshot of the recruits. “When I tell you to take a day off it’s for a good reason. You’ve been looking sick lately, I don’t want you to crash and burn.”  
  
“You eat anything today?” she asked quickly and he glowered at her. “Yesterday?” she asked and he huffed with an eye roll.  
  
“ _Yes._ ” He said in frustration. “Don’t change the subject. Can you _please_ go and relax for at least a few hours.” She frowned and kicked at the snow on the ground, if she had pockets her hands would have been in them.  
  
“I need to keep busy.” She said quietly and tried to shrug off the feeling of his calculating eyes.  
  
“Could that have anything to do with why you’ve been watched all morning?” Cullen said quietly and Ivy couldn’t help but glance to where Iron Bull sat on a barrel near a stockpile of crates. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle, almost as if he _wanted_ her to know that he was keeping an eye on her. “Am I wrong in thinking that he is, or was, a bit more than an acquaintance?”  
  
“I don’t know what he was.” She said tiredly and looked to her feet. In a bold gesture- bold because Cullen always hid any sign of their friendship in front of the soldiers- he reached out and gently touched under her chin, coaxing her to look him in the eye. He smiled, the scar pulling at his lip and the corners of his eyes crinkling in one of the few tells of his age.  
  
“Head up, shoulders straight.” He said quietly. “Don’t let him think he is having an effect on you. If he oversteps his bounds you put him right back.” He grinned and she couldn’t help the smile that played on her face. “You’ve got a hell of a right hook, take it from me and don’t let it go to waste.”  
  
“Cullen,” she said quietly as she felt his thumb gently brush her jaw, “are you… putting on a _show_?” The idea came to her as she realised that they were perfectly positioned for Bull to see the Commander’s gesture – and how long his hand has hovered. His grin grew wider, a rare mischievous smile that she hadn’t seen on him for a very long time. Reaching up she grasped his gloved hand and gently pulled it down, her own smile turning into a reluctant grin. “You know, where I’m from they call that _shit-stirring_.” She teased him and he laughed.  
  
“How eloquent.” He teased in return. “Thank you for sharing that gem of culture.” She outright laughed and slapped his hand away playfully.  
  
“You’re such a shit.” She said with a smile before starting to back away, intending to find something to occupy her few hours of forced downtime.  
  
“That’s ‘you’re such a shit, _Ser_.’” He corrected her and got a laugh for his effort. She saluted him dramatically before bowing out and striding towards the Tavern.  


The tavern had a couple of stragglers in it, two soldiers, a couple of women- who Ivy had no idea what their roles in the Inquisition was, and a Lay Sister who had a secret drinking problem that everyone knew about. Ivy sat on a chair, her feet up on the table while she chewed on some kind of bread that had been cooked with vegetables in it, the taste was unique and she wasn’t sure if she _liked_ it or just liked the fact it was food.

She turned the page of her book with a sigh. It was excessively boring. _The Maker’s First Children_ by someone called Bader, but it detailed the kinds of Demons that existed and since they were still fighting Demons it helped that she knew what she was up against. She had found the book lying around on a crate in the Chantry and after about a day no-one had moved it so she claimed it for herself. She squeezed her eyes shut before opening them wide again. She couldn’t quite believe that she was spending her time off doing homework.

The door opened and closed gently as Solas walked in, hands behind his back casually as he looked around the tavern with curiosity. His eyes fell on Ivy and his mouth twitched in a half smile before he walked over, Ivy hadn’t spoken to him since he first arrived and he was looking much less like a homeless man now.  
  
“Captain.” He greeted with a nod of his head and Ivy idly waved at him before turning a page. “I see you have found my book.” He said with amusement.  
  
“Probably should take better care of your belongings.” She said flatly. “Leaving a book on a crate in the Chantry might not be the best place for it.” He nodded in acquiesce before staring at her for a moment as if he were running conversations through his head.  
  
“Are you finding it useful?” He asked.  
  
“I can’t decide if it the information I’m getting from it is worth the effort I have to spend in order to sort through the propaganda it spouts.” She said and looked to him with a half-smile. “It gives me some information on Demons and I guess in that sense it’s useful. But the rest of it just prattles on about the Maker.” She closed the book and placed it on the table for Solas to take, he did so with a bow.  
  
“I take it you are not Andrastian.” He said without judgement.  
  
“I’ve seen some amazing things, mages healing, the breach in the sky. The only signs of the Maker I’ve seen is his absence.” She said before smiling at him. “Call me crazy but I’d rather put my faith in my friends.”  
  
“It is not a terrible thing to have faith in.” He said as the door opened. They both glanced to see a dwarven woman look around, her eyes falling on Ivy she walked over with purpose.  
  
“Captain Volkev?” She asked and Ivy nodded once, the woman saluted and stood to attention. “Lace Harding reporting for Duty, Ser.”  
  
“Harding?” Ivy asked in confusion, it wasn’t unusual for recruits to be sent her way but her memory dredged up an image of Harding as a scout, she should be reporting to Leliana or Cullen.  
  
“Yes, Ser. I am ready to join the forward medics on your order.” She said and Ivy sat up properly, she was trying to school her face to be blank, especially with Solas watching the exchange with interest.  
  
“Someone is having you on, Harding, I don’t handle fresh recruits regardless of where they’re stationed.”  
  
“What _do_ you do Captain?” Solas asked with mischief in his eyes, she gave him a sharp look and ignored him.  
  
“Do you have any medical background?” Ivy asked.  
  
“Father was a tailor, Ser, I can stitch with the best of them.” She said with her spine rigidly straight.  
  
“I don’t doubt it.” Solas said while supressing a laugh.  
  
“Solas,” Ivy looked to him sharply, “go read your damn book.” He bowed once, a tight smile still on his face and left as casually as he had walked in. “Right.” Ivy said and gestured to the chair opposite her. “Sit down, you’re making me tired just looking at you.”  
  
“Thank you, Ser.”  
  
“And drop the _Ser_. I’m not a noble, I’m barely a Captain, I’m not going to freak out if you actually call me by my name.” She held her hand up to the barwoman and she come over with a couple of tankards of ale. “The name is Ivy by the way and if you hadn’t noticed I’m off duty so let’s have a drink.” Harding let a smile slip for the first time since entering the tavern, it was infectious and soon Ivy had one of her own.

“I herded sheep near Redcliffe,” Harding was telling Ivy after half the tankard, “always wanted to see the world but all I saw was the Hinterlands, got to know them pretty well too. When Officer Carter came through with a few Inquisition soldiers I offered to lead them around. I guess she liked me enough and sent me to Haven.”  
  
“That doesn’t explain why she recommended you for the Healers, if anything you should be a scout.” Ivy said and Harding looked down into her drink.  
  
“Well, while I was helping them we came across a couple of elves, well-armed and serious looking, they said they were looking for a woman who was a fugitive from the Qun, they had her last location in the Free Marches but they came to Redcliffe following some trail. Carter couldn’t convince them that we didn’t know anything and they attacked.” Ivy took a long drink from her tankard in an attempt to quell the nerves that were surfacing in her stomach. “We won the fight but one of the soldiers got a pretty bad cut, I stitched him up and Carter thought I’d be good at doing it in the field.”  
  
“Well, I’ll leave the decision to you.” Ivy said quietly. “But if you want to see the world, I can reassign you to the Commander as a scout.”  
  
“Can you do that?” She asked, trying to hold back the hopeful sound in her voice.  
  
“Sure.” Ivy laughed. “I’ll convince him.”  


That night Ivy was restless and made her way to Cullen’s quarters, she couldn’t shake the off feeling she had since meeting Harding earlier. Cullen looked up from his papers as she knocked and entered, he watched her pace for a moment as she idly chewed on her thumbnail.  
  
“Something wrong?” He asked and gave her his full attention, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.  
  
“That scout I sent you earlier.” She said.  
  
“Thought it was odd you were so adamant about her being a scout.” He said as he kept his gaze fixed on her. “What about her?”  
  
“She was supposed to be a scout.” Ivy said as her brain worked through its thoughts.  
  
“Uh huh.” He said sceptically. “And she is.”  
  
“No,” Ivy said a little frustrated, “she was supposed to be a scout as soon as she was recruited, not be assigned as a _healer_.”  
  
“Harding told me about the circumstances of her recruitment.” Cullen said carefully. “Seemed like those mercenaries were looking for you. Are you worried that you somehow influenced the outcome of her assignment?” Ivy nodded a bit too much and she felt a few curls spring free of her ponytail. In frustration she let her hair down and ran her hands through her hair. “Ivy,” he tried to reassure her, “it was just one little thing.”  
  
“ _One little thing?”_ she stressed and he closed his eyes with a defeated sigh. “Cullen, Lace Harding becomes the _best_ scout that the Inquisition produces. She goes ahead of Adaar’s party and relays vital information back to the group, so much so that without her reports we would be _crippled_.” Cullen stood and walked around his desk with his hands up, nodding and trying to calm her. “I nearly fucked that up. _Me_.”  
  
“But you _didn’t._ ” He said calmly and gripped her shoulders, stopping her pacing. “You fixed it straight away.”  
  
“ _This_ time.” She said with a half sob. “But what else has changed that I don’t know about?” He gave her a sympathetic look and she let her head lean roughly against the top of his armour, making him move his head or he would have received a headbutt to the jaw.  
  
“I know you’re worried about _changing_ things.” He said as he pulled her closer one hand gently tangled in her curls while the other rested on her lower back. Ivy brought her hands to rest against the cold armour. “But the future isn’t set, you said that yourself.” He sighed and she felt his breath cascade over her hair. “If the future you see is one where you have had no influence on it, then it would have been one where you didn’t exist in the first place.”  
  
“I was never supposed to be here.” She rasped and the hand in her hair began to flex, making soothing motions.  
  
“Then, quite frankly, that future is one that I never want to be a part of.” He said with a sigh. “Ivy-”

The door to his quarters opened quickly and they parted just as quickly, a pained expression crossing over his face as she looked to the floor.  
  
“Apologies for the interruption.” Krem, the second in command of Bull’s Chargers, said with a short bow. “Commander, there has been an altercation by the gates that requires your attention.”  
  
“Maker damn it.” Cullen said with a heavy sigh before shooting Ivy an apologetic look.  
  
“Go on,” she said, “put the fear into them.” He gave her one last tight smile before striding out of his office.  
  
“There is also a situation that requires your attention, Captain.” Krem said flatly and Ivy raised an eyebrow to him.  
  
“Which is what?” she said suspiciously to him.  
  
“Hard to explain, Captain.” Krem replied and Ivy sighed before following.  


The _situation_ was in the under-croft of the Chantry and Ivy was slightly worried that she was going to be tricked into being trapped in the dungeon but Krem stopped before the entrance and gestured to one of the smaller storage alcoves to the left. Ivy looked to him warily before stepping forward. The alcove had been cleared out, the crates moved to made a half-entrance and block the main area off from view and a soft light emanated from the concealed area.

Ivy stepped around the crates, looking low and in-between the gaps for any signs of a trap or tripwire and was met with the scene of Iron Bull sitting on an ornate rug, a large pillow tucked behind him as he reclined on a couple of smaller crates, his arms spread wide in comfort and his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. A brazier was tucked in the corner and coals burned in it to effectively heat the small space, the faint scent of incense lingering to please the senses. A couple of lanterns created the glow and were put up high so Bull was bathed in soft candlelight, the whole effect was so far removed from Haven, she almost felt like she was back in Par Vollen.

He smiled at her and looked to Krem who had stepped into the alcove while Ivy was gaping at the sight.  
  
“Mission complete, Boss.” Krem reported while standing to attention.  
  
“Good job, Krem.” Bull rumbled. “And the Commander?”  
  
“Successfully cock-blocked, Ser.” Krem said with a grin before turning on his heels and leaving as Bull laughed to himself. Ivy watched Krem leave before whirling to Bull again, her confusion clear.  
  
“Bull,” Ivy said reluctantly, “What is all this?”  
  
“This-” he gestured to the alcove, “is just a room, nothing special about it, no tricks, no ill intentions.” He gestured to another large pillow as if asking her to take a seat, she did hesitantly, sitting cross legged on it. “I thought about what you said this morning, that we don’t know each other anymore and you’re right.” She opened her mouth to speak and he held his hand up asking her to wait. “I have memories of you, of how fond I was of you, but they were… _affected_ when I gave myself to the re-educators. For a long time I pushed aside what I remembered of our friendship and after that my knowledge of you comes from filtered down reports. But, and this is the worst bit, regardless of how they reprogrammed me, I still remember how I felt when you sailed away.”  
  
“Bull-” Ivy said softly and he smiled tightly at her.  
  
“I want to get to know you again.” He said quietly. “Not through spying on you or asking the troops, I want to hear _you._ And I want you to know me again too.”  
  
“I… would like that.” Ivy said softly and he smiled, reaching back into an open crate he pulled out a dark bottle and a couple of goblets. Uncorking it with his teeth he poured the near-purple liquid and handed one to her. The liquid was dark as it reflected the candlelight and Ivy tentatively smelled it, wine.  
  
“The only good thing to come out of Tevinter is the wine.” He said before taking a large sip, Ivy put hers on the floor in front of her untouched. “Did I tell you about the time my squad raided a Vint estate and each room was covered from floor to ceiling with wine racks?”  


They spoke long into the night, talking about small things like their preference of wood grading for staff weapons to more important things like the skirmishes they had gotten into, Bull obviously had far more fighting experience than Ivy and so he talked a long time about it, stopping every now and then to refill their goblets. A silence broke between them and they were comfortable in each other's presence, Ivy had shifted to lean against some crates, her arm folded on the surface and her head resting on her arm and Bull took to lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.  
  
“You loved him, didn’t you?” Bull asked suddenly and softly, his eye not moving from the ceiling. “You’re a smart woman, you must be aware of the significance of what’s on your wrist.” She sighed and took another drink, the heady wine mixing well with the scent of the incense.  
  
“I know what it meant.” She said quietly. “And I loved him enough to regret his death.” Iron Bull sat up and faced her, his elbows resting on his crossed legs.  
  
“And now?” He asked, his countenance passive.  
  
“Now I’m just glad I survived.” She looked down to the tooth secured on her wrist. “And this serves as a reminder that I did.”  


It was nearing dawn, the two of them somehow talking throughout the night without being interrupted.  
  
“I have to go soon.” Bull said as he stretched. “I’m headed to Val Royeaux with Adaar and couple of others at dawn.”  
  
“Varric?” Ivy asked.  
  
“Nah, Casandra and that mage, Solas.” He said as if he had trouble remembering which Ivy knew he didn’t. She was convinced he pretended to forget details so others started to see him less as a Ben-Hassrath.  
  
“That’s going to be a cheerful journey.” Ivy teased and he laughed gloomily. “A long one too.”  
  
“You should come, save me from the crippling boredom.” He smiled at her and she laughed.  
  
“Doesn’t work that way and you know it. Besides, I have work to do here.”  
  
“Yeah, the Commander would be lost without you.” He jibed and she shoved him with her toe.  
  
“You’re going to be exhausted for the ride.” She said and he hummed in affirmation.  
  
“And you’ll be exhausted when you go on watch.” He replied. “But I don’t regret it, do you?” She smiled but hid it as she hugged her knees to her chest.  
  
“No, I had fun.” She said quietly. “Thank you.”  


She went on watch as Iron Bull was preparing to depart. They were just waiting on Adaar to arrive before they set out and Bull took the moment to walk over and give Ivy a big smile.  
  
“I’ll be back in no time.” He said quietly. “One month.” And Ivy gave him a tired smile.  
  
“I believe it.” She said and he seemed somewhat relieved. “Be safe.”  
  
“My Chargers are staying here, I’ve told them in my absence that they follow your orders.” He said and nodded to Adaar who walked up and shone Bull a wide smile.  
  
“I’m going to have them hide all your things.” Ivy whispered to Bull and he laughed, winking at her before he backed away to his horse. He mounted and they left Haven, and Ivy felt oddly alone in the fields of snow.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bull?” She said uncertainly and he stepped forward to drape the fur over her shoulders. “What are we doing out here?”

One month turned into two and Haven grew busy. The Inquisitor was making good progress in Orlais, sending Sera, the elvhen prankster and Vivienne, a noblewoman and mage to Haven to join the cause. Ivy was rotating between Haven and the front lines of the temple, which had quietened down greatly but still had demons wandering through and eventually they received word that the party was on their way to Redcliffe.

As soon as Ivy heard they were going to see the mages who were taking refuge in Redcliffe she had a moment of panic. That moment spread into a week as she pushed the troops to check the fortifications daily ensuring all trebuchets were in working order and to train harder than they did before. It got to the point where Cullen stepped in and forced her to take a day off.

Three months after Iron Bull left they returned to Haven looking tired and grim, Adaar was tired, more closed off than her usual self and they had Dorian, a Tevinter mage, with them. Quietly they walked into the Chantry and debriefed the council and Ivy busied herself knowing they’d be in there a long time.

Night fell and they emerged from the War Room. Cullen stormed angrily into his quarters, the bolt locking behind him in a sign of his need for privacy and Ivy knew he was angry over Adaar’s decision to choose the Mages over the Templars.   
  
“A month then.” Adaar’s voice echoed down the main chamber. “We should be able to close the Breach then.”  
  
“Assuming all the calculations are correct and we don’t get disintegrated in the process, yes.” Dorian replied in his distinctive accent and they passed Ivy to retire to their quarters. Her heart thudded as she leant back onto the wall, a month until they would try to close the breach and a month to try and get Haven as defendable as possible. She had no illusions of trying to save Haven itself, she knew it would be better to move to Skyhold and the fall of Haven is what prompts the change, but the troops here, her friends, their deaths is what she wanted to prevent and she felt ill thinking it could end up as bad as was in Kirkwall.  
  
“Hey.” She looked up from the stone floor to see Iron Bull standing beside her, he looked exhausted with new wounds and fresh scars on his skin. He smiled at her and pulled an object out of his pocket, it was small and white in his palm as he offered it to her. She plucked it from his hand, it was a King piece from a chess set.  
  
“Are you alright?” She asked before even wondering about the king piece and he hummed.  
  
“Yeah, all my bits a still attached. Going to sleep for a week though.”  He shook his head. “Damn mage was fucking around with time magic, apparently the Boss went into the future, saw some bad shit.”  
  
“If you stopped him then that future won’t happen anymore.” Ivy said and he looked relieved.  
  
“Good, that’s… good.” He said and Ivy smiled at him before holding up the king piece questioningly. “Someone asked me to give you that.” He said almost playfully.  
  
“Who?” Ivy asked and he shook his head.  
  
“You can’t guess?” He said disbelievingly. “Figure it out, use that smart mind of yours.” She turned the piece over in her fingers, feeling the well-cut edges and the smoothness of the marble it was made of.  
  
“Alistair.” She said quietly and he hummed in confirmation.  
  
“After he told the Mages to get out of Ferelden he handed that to me, just said to pass it onto you if you were still around.” He smothered a yawn and Ivy tucked the king piece into her pocket.  
  
“Thanks Bull.” She said. “You’re exhausted, get some sleep.”  
  
“Yeah.” He agreed before smiling at her and heading out of the building.  
  


It was barely a day or two before mages began to arrive at Haven, a lot of them. Their presence and demands put a strain on the troops, the resources and the Commanders patience and in turn set Ivy on edge. Cullen was silent, almost unbearable in his moodiness, and the few Templars who were present in Haven were trying to decide if they should stay or go, smaller fights broke out between them which were quick to be resolved, a couple by Ivy and her staff as she knocked some sense into both parties before assigning them to some painful duty where they had to work together.

The good thing about the presence of the Mages was that the troop morale had improved as the rumours of the mission to seal the breach spread through the ranks, a few veterans even gave up their personal time to teach a few mages how to fight with weapons if the need arose.

The press of people in Haven and the feeling of approaching certainty played havoc on Ivy’s sensitivities and she found herself trying to get away from the mages, taking isolated watch positions and hiding in her tent during her downtime. Her abilities almost sensing the part that they would play in the next few weeks and she had to try harder to hold back her visions but the pressure of doing so, the willpower needed to stop herself from whiting out among all the people left her exhausted, nose bleeding and retching up bile as she hid out of sight.

She scooped up a handful of snow from the ground and pressed it to her bleeding nose, she managed to duck behind the storeroom just in time to throw up what she had eaten that day and the pressure in her head resulted in the thick drops of blood that she was trying to staunch unsuccessfully with snow.  
  
“This is getting out of hand.” She glanced to see Iron Bull rounding the storeroom wall and crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“Its fine.” She said stubbornly and he growled unhappily.  
  
“Don’t try that with me.” He scolded her. “This is serious now, its too risky to keep hiding this way.”  
  
“It’s riskier for people to know about me.” She hissed quietly before throwing the snow to the ground and kicking it to scatter the small bright red clumps.  
  
“I’m not suggesting that.” Bull said and stepped up to place his large hands on her shoulders. “You can’t bottle this up, you _need_ to have the visions.”  
  
“There are people _everywhere_.” She said and wiped at her nose. “That’s what is making it so bad. The mages are like sparks that are showering over me each time they walk past and it's like it's sticking to my skin. I'm soaking them up and I can't avoid it.” She sighed heavily and rubbed at her forehead, frustrated at herself for getting to the point where people thought they had to intercede.  
  
“Okay,” he nodded in thought, “go get some rest, I’m going to figure something out.”  
  
“You don’t have to look after me.” She said quietly, feeling like a burden.  
  
“I know.” He said and smiled down at her. “But I want to anyway.”  
  


That afternoon Bull led her to the other side of the lake to the abandoned fisherman hut. He opened the door with a shove of his shoulder since the frost had almost sealed it shut and looked around warily as Ivy and the Chargers were waiting outside and watching for the odd demon or wolf.  
  
“It’s clear.” He called and stepped back outside, picking up the large pack he had carried here. “Krem, split into two groups and take either side of the hut, there shouldn’t be any demons floating about but I want you all to take watch anyway. There are patrols surrounding our location but the Commander should have diverted them to give us room by now.”  
  
“Yes sir, and should they approach?” Krem asked.  
  
“Turn them away. I don’t want anyone coming near this hut tonight.” Krem saluted and gave the orders, leaving Ivy and Bull standing on the porch.  
  
“And how exactly did you get Cullen to agree to this?” Ivy asked suspiciously as she hitched her pack on her back and stepped into the hut to escape the cold wind.   
  
“I told him the truth.” Bull said simply and dragged his pack inside. “I said you needed to be somewhere isolated to get your head straight. He didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone with me,” he grinned at Ivy cheekily, “but since we can ill-afford to have him leave his post at a crucial time, he had no choice.”  
  
“And your Chargers?”  
  
“Won’t say a word.” He reassured her. “They know to follow orders.” He pulled a small pot out of his pack, it was covered and rattled as he set it on the ground in the middle of the room, lifting the lid off he took some flint and sparked a small flame into the pot and the contents caught fire before quickly burning down into coals. “No fire here, can’t risk the fireplace smoke giving our location away.” He explained. “So we’ll have to make do with the little brazier and furs.”  
  
“Cozy.” Ivy said and sat on the edge of a ruined bed, the hut was structurally intact but the furniture inside had been damaged as if the occupants left in a hurry before it was ransacked. The wood creaked with each gust of wind and branches of the nearby tree scratched along the roof. “So what now?”  
  
“Now I suggest you get comfortable.” He said and Ivy raised an eyebrow at him. “We need to get as many visions done as you feel you safely can, if I’m right you’ll be able to go back to Haven and be less pressured by them.”  
  
“And here I thought you had whisked me away for a romantic rendezvous.” She teased him and he laughed before stepping up to her and holding her hand in a bid to help her stand.  
  
“Who said I can’t do both?”  
  
  


Ivy lay on the furs that had been spread on the floor, she was gasping and panting, her hand shakily wiping away a thin film of sweat that had formed on her forehead. Iron Bull’s hand was on her waist as if steadying her, the other propping himself up as he leaned over her and checked her condition.  
  
“Are you hurt?” He asked slowly and she managed to mouth the word _no_ at him. “Can you sit up?” he didn’t wait for her answer and helped her sit up, letting her lean against his chest as he reached for a waterskin and gently pressed it to her mouth. She dutifully drank and worked on controlling her heart rate and breathing, taking long, slow draws of air.  
  
“That was-” she said shakily before he chuckled.  
  
“Exactly what we wanted.” He finished and she nodded weakly. “Want to tell me what the vision was about?” She shook her head and he nodded once, accepting of her answer. The presence of another vision skirt around the edges of her mind and she sighed heavily.  
  
“There’s another one.” She almost pouted.  
  
“I’ve got you.” He said and his arm wrapped around her waist protectively, a moment later her head was falling back onto his chest as she gasped and her vision whited out again.  
  


She fell to her knees on the thick ice of the lake, the wind was blowing hard and it had begun to snow, the whiteness of it all disorienting.   
  
“ _Ivy.”_ She turned to see Iron Bull approaching carefully with a fur in his hand and she suddenly felt the cold, she had lost her jacket somewhere and she had only her linen shirt covering her chest.  
  
“Bull?” She said uncertainly and he stepped forward to drape the fur over her shoulders. “What are we doing out here?”  
  
“You don’t remember? You burst out of the cabin and ran across the lake, damn near scared the life out of Krem.” He wrapped the fur around her tight and urged her to stand, keeping her in his arms as she struggled against the ice and snow.  
  
“I- yeah.” She remembered she ran out onto the lake to see Haven better as the avalanche hit it, cutting off the vision just before the snow of the avalanche hit her. “I remember.”   
  
“Can you walk?” he asked and she walked carefully, tucked under his arm and pressed against the warmth of his chest. They stepped onto the porch and Krem grimly nodded at Ivy’s apology.  
  


In the cabin she sunk onto the floor, pulling the fur tight as she shivered.  
  
“That’s four now.” Bull said and offered her some food to which she shook her head. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Like shit.” Ivy said and huffed a laugh. “But my mind is clearer.”  
  
“Maybe you should try to sleep for an hour.” He suggested. “I can wake you up soon.”   
  
“Too cold.” She said as she suppressed a shiver and he picked up his large fur, draping it over his shoulders. He sat beside her, leaning against the wall and held his arm out in offering. She hesitated a moment before moving over to him and he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his fur around them both. The heat from his skin made her sigh contentedly and he let out a low chuckle, his hands resting on her waist and in her curls.  
  
“Sleep.” He ordered and she nodded with a yawn, slowly slipping into sleep.  
  


She awoke blinking against the faint candlelight and moaned, turning her head into the warmth of the chest beneath her. Hands reached up and petted at her comfortingly as if to settle her to sleep again and she looked up to see Bull still leaning against the wall, eye closed as he breathed a heavy sigh. She smiled to herself but didn’t move, enjoying the closeness.  
  
“You know you can join me in my tent whenever you want to.” He said as a mischievous smirk grew on his face. “It gets awful cold and lonely around here, can’t imagine you sleep very well.”  
  
“There’s no guarantee that hands will be kept to themselves.” She said and sat up, stretching out her stiff muscles.  
  
“Nothing wrong with that, besides, you didn’t specify _whose_ hands.” He teased and she laughed and stood up. A moment later she fell back to her hands and knees with a gasp as a vision slammed into her mind, the grain of the floorboards digging into her palms as they shifted and reformed into whatever she needed to see.  
  


It was near midnight and she decided that she had had enough. The last vision left her in a snow bank and staring at the starry sky, Iron Bull had to find and pull her out of the snow to scold her about keeping dry and warm. Back at the cabin she had to shed her wet clothes and was wrapped in her fur, sucking down what she figured was rye whiskey as Bull pushed food on her and talked about a mission he had undertook over a year ago.  
  
“Bull,” she said between his stories, “thanks for doing this.” He smiled at her before taking another drink.  
  
“Anytime you need it, or need to get away, you just say the word.” He said and Ivy could have sworn his deep voice made the cabin creak. She hesitated a moment, unsure of if she should follow the urge she felt but then gave in, moving over to him and settling on his lap, leaning against his chest. She felt his smile against the skin of her shoulder as he gently pulled her closer to him, almost curling around her as he took a long draw of breath. They stayed like that for a long time before he moved them to be lying on the floor, still talking about missions he had undergone. Ivy managed to fall asleep on the floor, curled up to his chest and wrapped in furs.

With a clear mind she returned to Haven, the night spent in the cabin was taxing on her physically but worth it as she walked through the gates and didn’t feel the press of the foresight. The council was determined to strengthen their position in Haven through both political and military means which meant that Ivy was busy with new troops, requisitions and the sort while simultaneously having to pander to the minor nobles who would visit every now and then and escorting them through the land surrounding Haven. She felt like tearing her hair out in frustration and screaming at them to build more walls and set traps and magical wards in the outlying areas, felt like giving up her hard won anonymity to shake some sense into Adaar who was more concerned with spreading the Inquisition thin by posting them in other lands, but instead she took a deep breath and bore the prevailing feeling of anxiety.

Cullen, who had managed to shake his grumpiness at the presence of the Mages, caught onto Ivy’s moodiness and determination to have the fortifications ready and watched her curiously for half a day before summoning her to his quarters. The soldier who delivered the summons to Ivy looked harried and beyond the ability to take a sarcastic remark from her and so she obeyed without question, which was very unlike her, and made her way towards the Chantry. Bull passed her along the way as he escorted Adaar who was chatting to him about something he seemed uninterested in and he gave Ivy a wink, at least she thought it was a wink – she could hardly tell with the eyepatch but the exaggerated movements certainly helped her interpret the gesture as a wink. Adaar also noted the gesture and gave Ivy a curious look, prompting Bull to reengage in the conversation they were having.

Walking in to the Commander’s quarters she closed the door behind her when Cullen gestured for her to do so with the quill he was holding, he took his time in signing a couple of papers before putting the quill back into its stand and rubbing at his face with his hands. Ivy waited patiently as he did this, giving him a tight smile when he looked over to her. He stood and rounded his desk to lean against it, arms crossed loosely over his chest and one ankle crossing the other as he stretched his legs.  
  
“You look exhausted.” Ivy said with concern as she noted the dark marks under his eyes he hummed and gave her a smile followed by a single huffed laugh.  
  
“The preparations for this mission to close the breach is more than I had anticipated.” He said flatly and Ivy stood forward to fuss at his ragged hair and hold his face steady to check for signs of anything else. He was paler than normal, his usually constant tan faded but his face was the only tell of his tiredness since his armour covered him everywhere else.  
  
“Give me some of the work.” She offered and he looked her over. “We can’t have our Commander falling ill at such a crucial time.” He half smiled and shook his head looking down to the floor.  
  
“Normally I would take you up on your offer, but you seem to be busy with preparations of your own.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and she avoided his gaze, stepping back slowly to be out of his space. “Anything you want to tell me?” Ivy stayed silent and wandered towards the wall, touching the stone idly before her wandering took her to the chest and bed, her hands tracing over the wooden posts. She always wandered and touched whatever should could reach when she was wanting to avoid a situation and as far as nervous habits were concerned this one was blindingly obvious.

Cullen sighed deeply before standing up straight and walking calmly over to her, his hand touching her forearm gently to stop her fussing and turning her to face him. She still looked to the floor feeling almost like a child caught doing something bad.  
  
“Your silence is enough to tell me you’re concerned about whatever it is.” He said as he fussed with her uniform – his own version of a nervous twitch. Cullen was never completely satisfied with how she was dressed but knew to hold back on his obsessive attitude of military neatness when she was around. “And I know you’ve been hounding the troops about the fortifications. If- Maker forbid- something was going to happen, I’d hope that you would tell me, not just because of what we’re trying to do here or the lives of our troops – which I know you want to protect them as much as I do – but also because I hope you trust me enough to know that _if_ there was something, _anything_ , you needed to tell me, that I would do everything possible to keep you safe.” He reached out and placed his hands gently on either side of her face, lifting it up so her eyes met his and she did see his concern, his steadfast belief. “I will never use you for your abilities, nor would I allow anyone else to do so.” He promised.   
  
“I know that.” She whispered and he gave her a tight smile. Leaning back on the wooden post of the ornate bed she sighed, Cullen’s hands casually falling to rest where they may, one on her hip and another on her arm. He seemed to be itching to comfort her, or just seeking comfort through his exhaustion.  
  
“I’m worried about you.” He admitted and she nodded in acknowledgment, her fingers playing idly with the fur trim of the red mantle he wore. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to take these things on alone.” A silence stretched between them, neither one shifting or moving away, comfortable in their closeness.  
  
“The fortifications.” She said in almost a whisper and he moved closer to hear her. “They need to be finished before we close the Breach.”  
  
“Okay.” He said calmly. “Should I get the mages to add wards onto them?” She nodded and the hand on her arm rubbed at her comfortingly. “Our forces are all over the place right now. Should I recall them?” She shook her head.  
  
“We’re going to evacuate.” She said and she felt him tense momentarily before he nodded and sighed.  
  
“Haven is not well situated to be defendable.” He said almost to himself. “I’ll have the troops gather supplies to do an evacuation drill on the day of the mission.”  
  
“They should stockpile it close to the Chantry.” She added and he nodded with a smile.  
  
“Of course.” He said before catching her gaze with his hazel eyes. “Thank you for trusting me.” She smiled at him and his hand trailed up to brush his fingers against her jawline. Something in the intensity of his eyes made a blush rise to pink her cheeks and his blush appeared to echo her own.

The sound of a door opening and a voice of a soldier got their attention, the soldier had walked in without knocking and was examining the report when he looked up to see an angry Commander and a slightly flustered Captain step away from each other quickly.  
  
“Maker.” Cullen said exasperatedly. “Has no one ever taught you how to knock?” the soldier looked down and apologised as Ivy made her way out of the door before Cullen could ask her to stay.  
  


A couple of days later and the mages were casting wards on the finished outer walls and the inner walls were nearing completion. Adaar was curious about her Commander’s new focus and he reassured her it was just for safety given the openness of their location and that the mission to close the Breach would go ahead as planned in a week’s time.

The soldiers were ordered to be armed and ready at all times, mostly in the name of drills and to keep the peace with the influx of the Mages and some more Templars, Ivy had thought that they would complain given that wearing armour can be uncomfortable – especially when you’re off duty and trying to sleep or relax – but they didn’t complain. They were, however, excited about a rumour that was spreading about her and the Commander being caught in a _‘compromising position’_ in his quarters by a soldier. The talk didn’t bother Ivy, the few who approached her curious about the truth of the rumours she politely set straight and sent them on their way, but a couple of soldiers were unlucky enough to be talking about it when the Commander was in earshot and they were sent to dig new latrines. Twice.

Her horse was nudging her shoulder affectionately as Ivy brushed her mane, the sound of blacksmith hammers were echoing over the low hum of life emanating from behind the walls when Leliana came up and had a short conversation with Warden Blackwall who was casually leaning against the wall of the smithy. Their conversation was over in about fifteen seconds and Leliana casually walked over to Ivy and gave her a smile.  
  
“Out with it.” Ivy said, fully aware of Leliana’s curious approach. “But be aware that I’m not going to swear at anyone in Qunlat again.”  
  
“Just wondering how the new recruits are coming along.” She said lightly and Ivy placed the brush she held back into the chest next to the stables before turning to look the spymaster over suspiciously.   
  
“That’s a question for the Commander.” Ivy said. “Considering he is currently _training_ the recruits.” Ivy pointed to the field just outside the gates where tents were set up and the soldiers were practicing their sword skills under the watchful eye of Cullen.   
  
“True, but I thought you may be able to give me a report considering how much time the two of you spend together.” The insinuation being that Ivy spent _all_ her time with him.  
  
“I would have thought that the Nightingale would be able to see through rank and file chatter.” Ivy said flatly and Leliana hummed.  
  
“Never underestimate the value of a rumour.” She almost lectured Ivy. “Even when untrue they have the power to destroy lives, ruin reputations. And I would hate to see our Commander fall prey to something like that.” Ivy met Leliana’s cold gaze and held it, seeing the dangerous determination in the woman’s eyes.  
  
“I am aware of how such fraternization would be damaging.” Ivy said flatly. “You do not need to be concerned.”  
  
“Between soldiers you do, yes.” Leliana spoke lowly and stepped forward so that no one nearby could overhear. “But what about a soldier and a Ben-Hassrath?” The wind picked up and sent a chill down Ivy’s spine, or that could have been the calculating glare that she was being pinned with. “I know that you and Iron Bull secluded yourselves away a few nights ago, that you returned early the next morning. And I will inform you now Captain, that even if I am the only one who is aware of your current dealings with Iron Bull that people will still notice and talk. I will not tolerate any actions that will hurt the Commander, including keeping secrets from him.”  
  
“I appreciate your concern.” Ivy replied calmly even though a tremor of anger ran through her hands. “But I think you will find that the Commander is more than capable of taking care of himself and is well aware of my friendship with Iron Bull. In _fact_ , he cleared my duties a few nights ago fully informed of Iron Bull’s intentions.” Leliana’s gaze didn’t falter as she processed the information. “And if you were concerned with whom a Ben-Hassrath spends their time with, perhaps you should be warning Adaar instead of a mere soldier.” Leliana didn’t reply, merely gave a sharp nod before turning on her heels and walking away, she breezed past Blackwall who gave her a curious look before turning to search for the source of her ire. He met Ivy’s gaze and barked out a short laugh.  
  
“You’ve got some balls.” He said to her casually. “I wouldn’t piss her off for fear of waking up with a dagger in my spine.”  
  
“We all die someday.” Ivy said flatly before making her way to report to her post.  
  


The night before the mission Ivy was in the tavern playing Wicked Grace with a few soldiers and loosing badly. Her mind kept whirring, trying to remember important details from her faded memory and the visions, trying to remember if she overlooked anything, if any of the new defences were needing to be adjusted in any way and as her mind tried to process all of this her hands automatically kept feeding her more ale and betting when she shouldn’t be.  
  
“Maybe call it a night, Cap’n.” Hinley, a brand new recruit who had arrived barely a month ago suggested, he was younger than her and awfully green despite the month of hard training. The worst part being that Ivy liked him, just another thing to worry about when the Red Templars attacked. She sighed and threw her cards down, folding from the game before nodding and slapping the recruit on the back. She stood, the world swaying with her and she stumbled slightly to the laughter of the soldiers. “You’ll be alright Cap’n? Orzamaar Ale tends to sneak up on ya like that and you put a lot away.” Hinley asked through a laugh and she flashed him a wide smile.  
  
“Take more than that to put me under mate.” She heard her own accent thicken through her drunken haze and she had a sudden craving for a hamburger, she sighed heavily before straightening her spine and wandering out of the tavern and into the night air.

Her feet scuffed the snow loudly as she sung to herself, typically it was an Earth song and it did nothing to tide the pang of nostalgia she was feeling, her head swam as she straightened her course, mumbling hello to a Lay Sister that passed her with a concerned look. A moment later she was by her tent, the fire crackling nicely as Varric sat beside it with Cullen, they seemed to be staring up at the stars and pointing out constellations. She slumped down onto the ground carelessly, looking up with a sway and peered at the once unfamiliar stars.  
  
“Maker.” Cullen said quietly as he looked at her state. “Ivy, are you drunk?”  
  
“ _No._ ” she said and held up her hands in the scout salute. They looked at her in confusion at the foreign gesture. “Scouts honour.”  
  
“I’ve never heard of that.” Varric said with a grin and a mischievous look to Cullen. “What is it? Some kind of code?” She grunted and shook her head, a hiccup escaping as she did.  
  
“What are you all talking about?” She asked.  
  
“We were talking about where we grew up.” Cullen said. “Apparently neither of us had a typical childhood. I was in the Templars and Varric was apparently everywhere.” Varric nodded in agreement.  
  
“What about you?” Varric asked Ivy who scooted a little bit closer to the fire to steal its warmth. “That accent of yours is proving mighty thick tonight.”  
  
“Nowhere.” She said defiantly. “I don’t have a home.”  
  
“Ferelden.” Cullen said with curiosity. “Surely somewhere around there.”  
  
“What about your family?” Varric asked and she groaned.  
  
“So many questions.” She complained. “No home, no family. Why do you keep asking?”  
  
“You know,” Cullen said thoughtfully, “I really don’t know anything about you from before Kirkwall.”  
  
“Tell us a story, Buttercup.” Varric insisted with a gesture and Cullen agreed with a smile. “Your family if you can remember them.” Ivy sighed and leaned forward to prop her head on her hand, her elbow digging into her crossed leg uncomfortably.  
  
“I had a mother, father and brother. All very nice, very normal.” She drawled as she struggled to recall their faces.   
  
“Had?” Cullen asked. “What happened to them?” Ivy shrugged and scrubbed at her face.  
  
“Nothing. I don’t know. Haven’t seen them for years.” She said quietly and stared into the fire.  
  
“We can try to find them if you want?” Cullen suggested and Ivy gave him a smile, his heart was in the right place at least. Her smile faltered as a wave of guilt washed over her and Cullen frowned at her change in mood.  
  
“They think I’m dead.” She said quietly and got silence in return. “At least, I hope they do. Seven years since- fuck.” She bitterly laughed and shook her head, her hands shaking as they came up to push back her hair. “If I went back now, the shock would kill them.” She murmured to herself and Cullen and Varric gave each other wary glances.

A deep voice rumbled in greeting as Iron Bull kneeled down at the campfire.  
  
“We’re all looking a bit maudlin.” He said with a smile and glanced at them.  
  
“Yeah.” Varric said carefully. “Just talking about our childhoods.” Bull looked to Ivy and gave her a nudge, she half smiled up at him and his smile faltered.  
  
“Even you?” he asked in a half joke, Ivy could barely remember how he had questioned her about her home when she first arrived in Par Vollen.  
  
“Time to sleep I think.” Ivy said as she stood with a stumble and it was Iron Bull’s quick reflexes that stopped her from falling flat on her face.   
  
“Time to sober up.” Bull said sternly and stood while still supporting her. “Come on, I’ve got a nice mix of a tea that will do the trick.” He half supported and half pulled her towards the gates much to her chagrin, leaving Cullen and Varric to watch after them questioningly.

He walked her up to his tent and thankfully very few people were around to watch her stumble and fall into the unassuming tent and onto a thick pile of furs. She groaned happily as she sank into the soft furs and Bull chuckled, slapping her thigh to make her roll so he could enter without kneeling on her splayed limbs.  
  
“What was that all about?” he asked casually as he fossicked around for a waterskin, locating one he opened it and sniffed the contents, scrunching his nose up he replaced the cork and rummaged for another. She huffed a sigh as she watched him, breathing heavily as she blinked back tired, drunk and emotional tears.  
  
“I want to go home.” She said in Qunlat and Bull stopped in his rummaging to look at her calculatingly.   
  
“Kings tongue, Ivy, I don’t want to have to deal with the fallout of you coming into my tent and speaking Qunlat.” He warned softly before sitting beside her cross legged, urging her to sit up and drink from the waterskin he held. It was tea, it was cold and it was awful. Ivy let her distaste for it be known with a scrunched up nose. “You’ve never said this before.” He continued softly as she swallowed with a sour face. “Are you being serious or is it the ale talking?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” She said flatly, looking down and fiddling with the leather of the waterskin before taking a deep breath and another sip.   
  
“Of course it does.” He replied, taking the tea away from her and corking it. “It bothers you, always has but you just keep avoiding the subject.” He leaned on his side, arm propping himself up and idly reached up to touch at a curl of her hair. “Tell me about it, it might make you feel better.” She smiled at him, happy for the offer but shook her head.  
  
“I doubt it.” She said flatly and he hummed, pulling her down to get comfortable beside him. “But you know what might?” he looked to her questioningly before her hand slipped around his neck, pulling him down an inch to press her lips against his gently. He smiled at her and shook his head.  
  
“First you don’t trust me, then you kiss me. You need to get your stance straight.” He teased her and she huffed a laugh.  
  
“Thought we were getting to know each other.” She jibed and he sighed.  
  
“Not like this.” He said sternly. “I’m not going to undo the last few months by sleeping with you while you’re drunk.” He leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Now go back to your tent.” He ordered and she mumbled under her breath unhappily before crawling out into the cold air. The tea already taking effect as her head felt clearer and she walked back to her tent, talking to nobody as she curled under her furs with a huff.  
  


It was late at night when Ivy felt a rush of cold air and a tapping on her boot. With a heavy sigh she took a moment to groan in displeasure and rub the side of her face on the fur bedding. Blearily cracking her eyes open she saw the low light of the torches which illuminated the walls and lifted her head to see who had woken her and saw Cullen’s blonde curls.  
  
“What’s happened?” Ivy asked, all of a sudden alert. It wasn’t like Cullen to enter her tent, this was the first time he had even opened it to look inside.  
  
“Nothing bad.” He reassured her quickly with a whisper. “Just, I wanted to make sure we were ready for tomorrow.” Ivy groaned and buried herself among the furs again.  
  
“Maker, Cullen, what time is it?”   
  
“Three in the morning.” He replied as if it was a perfectly normal time to be having a conversation.  
  
“Do you normally harass your soldiers at this time?” She complained and he huffed a quiet laugh.  
  
“More often than they like.” He admitted.  
  
“We’ve done everything we can.” She reassured him while talking into the fur. “Get some sleep.”  
  
“I can’t.” He said flatly. “Not knowing what’s coming but knowing something _is_ coming is driving me mad.”  A gust of wind passed into the tent and made Ivy shiver.  
  
“Get in the damn tent. It’s freezing.” She said harshly and he paused a moment, glancing around before ducking into her tent.

Her tent was small, a normal tent that barely reached to her chest in height and could fit maybe two people in it if they were small. Cullen was not small, especially with his armour on and so he was awkwardly trying to find somewhere to sit while Ivy stubbornly refused to move. Annoyed at the movement and sound he was creating Ivy reached up and gripped at the collar of his armour, pulling him down to lie flat, the only way he would fit without having to move Ivy’s limbs around. He still fidgeted and seemed unsure of what to do with his arms, eventually he just placed them on his chest and twiddled his fingers while Ivy looked on with a glare. He glanced to her uncertainly and shifted as if he was going to sit up again  
  
“I should probably go check the eastern ramparts-” he began.  
  
“I swear if you move one more time I’m going to tie you up and give you to the noblewomen.” She threatened and he stilled with a worried-yet-amused smile. “Cullen, we have checked and checked. I know you’re worried, hell I was freaking out for half the day but this isn’t like you. The troops need to see you confident not sleep deprived and anxious.”  
  
“I just hate not knowing.” He said almost petulantly.  
  
“You didn’t know in the first place.” She pointed out and he sighed heavily, drumming his fingers on the metal of his armour. She shot her hand out and flattened his drumming fingers to stop the noise. “I’m not going to tell you things if this is the result of it.” She warned and he shot her an unhappy look. “My Commander is brave, steadfast and sure of his actions and that is the Commander that our troops see. That is the leader we will need. Now close your eyes and for Maker’s sake try to sleep.”  
  
“You never used to swear the Maker’s name.” He said softly in a joke.  
  
“Your bad influence no doubt.” She settled her head to rest next to his shoulder, the metal of his armour radiating cold as she flung a part of the fur blanket over him. “You can stay here if it makes you feel better, just don’t snore.” She huffed and he hummed a laugh. Silence spreading between them for a moment as the tent began to become comfortingly warm again.  
  
“Losing Haven is going to hurt us.” Cullen almost whispered.  
  
“Every great cause must face adversity,” Ivy mumbled half asleep again already, “we will overcome this. You’ll see.” She half hugged him – it was more that her arm lazily lumped onto his chestplate – and told him to sleep once again. Reluctantly he closed his eyes with a sigh, his hand holding onto her arm as if it were an anchor.  
  
“We will close the breach.” He said confidently even though his voice was soft. “We will win this war.” Ivy smiled to herself, happy knowing he was ready for whatever was thrown at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some middle-of-the-road fluff tonight. :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hope you feel fucking proud of yourself you fucking bastard.” Ivy gasped

With a booming crack, one louder than any thunder Ivy had ever heard, the Breach was sealed and a hushed silence fell over Haven.   
  
“She did it.” A soldier said beside Ivy, his mesmerised gaze on the swirl of light that was dissipating from the sky to leave a green scar. “Adaar did it.” One by one the crowd began to cheer until it was all you could hear, the celebrating and relief from the people who had been fighting for months to stop the sky from eating the earth. Random people were hugging her, Lay Sisters and soldiers who had never had a reason to get along were laughing and crying together in the overwhelming reprieve of it all.

When the bells tolled loudly over the celebrations during the night another hush fell over Haven, the villagers looking around uncertainly before Cullen’s voice boomed from the gates telling everyone to form up ranks. Forces had been spotted and were approaching Haven, the size of the force was overwhelming and marched under no flag. Ivy ran to the gates and followed instruction, her whole body humming with apprehension as Cullen ordered all villagers to the Chantry for safety.

A demure voice came from the other side of the gate and Adaar opened it, an enemy soldier falling down with a cry revealing a small man in a large hat.  
  
“I’m Cole. I came to warn you.” He said worriedly. “The Templars have come to kill you.”  
  
“What?” Cullen was outraged. “This is their response to our talks with the mages? Blindly attacking?”   
  
“No.” Cole said. “They went to the Elder One, you took his mages and he’s angry at you. He wants to kill you.” Cole pointed to a ridge where a man stood, tall and grotesque next to what looked like a commanding officer.  
  
“Samson.” Cullen said quietly to himself. “Maker fucking damn it.”  
  
“Cullen.” Adaar said with worry. “What do we do?”   
  
“Haven is not defendable.” He said flatly. “Not against those numbers, we must control the battle. Just make them work for it. _Mages,_ ” he yelled to the forces amassing behind him, “you have sanction to engage them, Samson will not make it easy.” He drew his sword and held it high. “ _For the Inquisition.”_ A roar erupted from the soldiers as they rallied to the gates, Adaar running to the first of the trebuchets with her inner circle in tow.  
  


The Templars crashed against the fortifications like water on rocks, reeling and pushing to create a gap where there was none. Some were unfortunate enough to hit a ward and were attacked by elements, burning or freezing on contact. Mages cast fireballs and spells over the walls into the mass of Templars while soldiers lobbed bottles of incendiary liquids and archers fired their arrows. Ivy was dragging back Inquisition soldiers who were struck down to be taken to the Chantry, some lucky enough to get there alive and other not so. When the first of the trebuchets went off and triggered the avalanche the Inquisition solders cheered and the Red Templars faulted, their rear forces being buried under the mass of snow but the moment was short lived as the logs gave way and the Templars broke through the outer walls.

A screech in the air sent a shiver down Ivy’s spine and the heavy flap of wings made everyone duck instinctively as a soldier up on a higher part of the wall was plucked off of it by massive talons and thrown out into the Templar forces.   
  
“ _Dragon._ ” Came the yell from a soldier as the dragon fire blasted along the snow and onto the walls, Ivy diving out of the way to safety as the buildings of Haven were set alight, the dragon making pass after pass to melt away the snow that blocked the Templar’s forces.

The order to fall back echoed through the ranks and they made their way back through the inner wall, the Templars pressing them as they did cutting down soldiers with feral snarls. Ivy cut one down before she made it back through the gate, Cullen calling for them to hurry before he shut the gate behind them. Adaar was checking the village for any other civilians before she got to the Chantry which was full of soldiers and villagers, apparently all of them got out fine despite the fires and Cullen approached her with concern.  
  
“We’re surrounded.” He said flatly to Adaar and she seemed unsure.  
  
“Give me options, Commander.”  
  
“Herald,” he said quietly, “one more avalanche could take out the bulk of their forces.”  
  
“The Templars are on top of us.” Adaar hissed. “It will bury Haven _and_ us.”  
  
“At least we will have control over our own death.” Cullen said flatly and they stared at each other before Cole spoke up.  
  
“The Chancellor wants to tell you something before he dies.” He said and the Chancellor Roderick, the Chantry brother who had been such a pain in the ass until now, looked at Cole strangely before nodding.  
  
“There is a path that will take you out of Haven, up the hills behind us. You’d only know it if you took the Summer Pilgrimage as I have.” Roderick said as he coughed up blood, the man was dying.  
  
“Cullen,” Adaar said flatly, “take everyone and retreat along the path. I’ll make sure the Templars are buried behind you.”  
  
“What about your escape?” Cullen asked and silence was all he got in response and he nodded once. “Wait until we are above the tree line, I will send a signal. Who knows, maybe you’ll surprise us.” Cullen signalled for a squad of soldiers. “These men will load the trebuchets, good luck Herald.” Adaar nodded once and straightened her shoulders, running out of the Chantry with the men.  
  


Ivy was helping people through the back of the Chantry, her horse was hitched up to the wagon carrying supplies for the _evacuation drill_ Cullen had organised and most of the civilians were out and into the forest led by Roderick and Leliana. The last few soldiers were running past and carrying supplies when Cole stopped and turned to look in the direction of the trebuchets.  
  
“Cole, we need to go.” Ivy insisted and Cole just stared, she walked up to him and he was mumbling.  
  
“They’re not going to make it.” He said simply and shook his head. “The Templars have cut them down.”  
  
“What?” Ivy could barely hear him over the sounds of battle, she grabbed his shoulder and his hand shot up to wrap around her wrist, his bare fingertips meeting her skin and she had the briefest flash of image, of Adaar’s throat being slashed open in an arc of blood. Cole looked up at her with intense fear, his hands shaking.  
  
“She’s going to die.” He said with panic and Ivy pushed past him suddenly with a growl, sprinting along the path that would take her to the trebuchets.  
  


Adaar was on her own facing the squad of Templars as they circled her, the roar of battle fading slowly as the people evacuated, the troops falling back to cover them from the Templars that pursued. She was breathing heavily, blood on her face as the Templars jeered and feigned attacks, Adaar was backing up to the trebuchets slowly, only barely blocking the blows from the swords with her staff.

Ivy ran up, rapping her sword against her shield twice to get their attention and a couple of them turned, the red crystal that jutted from their skin glistening sickly in the light of the flames. A few growled and ran at her, swords high and leaving their defence open enough for Ivy to take advantage, hitting them with her shield and slicing at their necks and the joins of their armour. One by one they fell to her blade and Ivy charged the few who still threatened Adaar, sending one stumbling into the cold dirt as she smashed into him with her shield, and blocking the swing of the other with her sword before kicking him in the chest to stumble him enough for Adaar to cast a frost spell and turn him into an ice statue. The Templar on the ground tried to scurry back up but was met with her steel slashing at his throat as he knelt on one knee.

They had barely enough time to take a breath before they heard shouts from the narrow path that lead to the woods behind Haven, Templars were either making their way to the trebuchets or cutting off their people who were fleeing behind the large group.  
  
“Captain,” Adaar panted as she gripped the crank of the trebuchet tightly, her arms were shaking and she barely had the strength left to move the crank, “get to the others, make sure they make it to safety.”  
  
“I will.” Ivy said as she reached into her satchel and pulled out an elfroot and lyrium potion, handing them to Adaar and nodding to her once. “If there are Templars on that path, they won’t make it to you.” She dropped her shield and picked up a second short sword from a fallen Templar, she needed to be quick now.  
  


As her boots crunched on the snow she was silently thankful that she had taken the time to run so many laps of Haven, the terrain now familiar to her and her footing sure. The tell-tale sound of metal armour carried easily along the narrow path and she scooted behind the cover of a tree, seeing a couple of Red Templars marching along the path, she took a deep breath before gripping the hilts of the swords she carried tightly and rushed out from behind the tree, charging the men and slashing at the back of the neck of one, cutting deeply enough to sever anything important and he slumped to the ground and block the incoming attack of the other with her sword, relentlessly striking at him until she drove her sword deeply into his stomach. She continued along the path for only a moment until the remainder of the squad rushed her, growling savagely as they cast a red glow onto the snow with each movement.

One blade scored her side and cut through the leather of her armour, biting into her waist harshly as she cried out and buried her blade in between the joins of the plate armour of a Templar. She raised her sword and blocked before running another through, her war cry loud as the adrenalin coursed through her. She jumped back form the arc of a sword a moment too late and the tip of the blade managed to score her inner thigh in a long line, the front of her leather greaves proving useless at that angle and she stumbled back, her own blood splattering along the snow in a pattering sound. The woman in front of her grinned, her eyes red and full of malice as she swung again, Ivy rolling out of the way as her leg refused to obey her commands. The sword hit the ground and Ivy kicked with her good leg, disarming the woman before she swung, her blade hacking at the Templar’s arm which squelched and shattered and the woman screamed, holding up her arm which was dangling from her by sinew and muscle. Ivy knelt up and thrust her sword home, ripping the metal through the abdomen of her opponent and watching her slump to the ground.

Panting heavily Ivy used the remaining adrenalin to begin to make her way up the slopes of the hills, she had to get above the tree line before the signal was sent. Each step got harder as she lost more blood, her hand pressing to staunch the throbbing wound at her side. She couldn’t stop to try and wrap the one on her leg, there was no time and as she climbed the light of the signal shone above her, looking up she could see the fireball glimmering in the darkness before dissipating and winking out. A crack echoed moments later and the avalanche was triggered, Ivy pushed aside all pain and sprinted up the hill, not daring to look back at the rush of snow behind her as it swallowed Haven.  
  


Her head floated from the loss of blood as she slumped up against a tree trunk, she was breathing hard, the effort of walking through the snow drifts taking its toll on her injuries. Not far ahead, barely a few hundred metres, the glow of the campfires flickered through the trees and people milled about anxiously as they set up tents. She had been walking for what felt like hours until the hill finally levelled out and she could follow the trail left by the people to where they were camping.

A long draw of breath steeled herself to keep going, keep walking through the knee high snow. The blood was still thick and wet on her pants and it spread with each step to darken the fabric and stick on her armour. Where her hand clutched at her side had stopped bleeding but she still held firmly onto it, not wanting to risk reopening the wound in any way. She slugged forward, her ragged breathing the only sound coming from her, the adrenaline long gone as each step sunk into the snow and made her feel colder – if that was even possible.

She heard shouting and the crunch of snow as she was spotted by the soldiers who were on watch, a couple of them running forward to take her weight and support her as her legs nearly gave out. The older man took her weight from the other and ordered that he run ahead to get a healer which the younger dutifully obeyed. Ivy’s head was now lolling with the movement, her eyes beginning to close without her permission and the soldier’s gruff order to keep awake barely registered as she tried to blink away the exhaustion.

More footsteps and a hand reaching to her face, the gloved thumb pressing against her cheekbone to urge her to look up at the man in front of her. She struggled to do so and when she finally managed to Cullen was there, talking with a frown but she couldn’t understand what he was saying, only hear a muffled echo of his voice as she smiled to him which seemed to worry him further. He uncorked a vial and held the back of her head, tilting it back so he could empty the contents into her mouth and place his hand over her mouth so she could swallow without losing any of the liquid. The sounds of the surrounding area came back to her with a rush even if she couldn’t understand it any better. She blinked and realised that she was in the camp being carried past a fire, the cold metal of Cullen’s armour biting into her skin as he carried her effortlessly past exhausted onlookers.

Another blink and she was on her back looking up at the canvas of a marquee style tent, the sides open to allow people to move freely in and out so the only protection the canvas offered was from the soft falling snow. Vaguely she felt the ripping of fabric along her thigh and she tried to lift her head to look at whomever was there, she could only see Cullen standing and looking over with a frown before a large hand guided her to look to her left where Iron Bull smiled down at her.   
  
“Remember when we first met?” He asked casually with a smile and she was momentarily confused by the question. She nodded, trying to glance down to see what they were doing before Bull shifted to kneel beside her, gently placing his arm on her far side to lean across her and block her view. A flutter of panic made her tense and Cullen urged her to stay still, Bull was distracting her and it made her worry even more.  
  
“What are they doing?” she asked and her voice was rough, Bull’s hand went to stroke back her curls as he smiled again.  
  
“Stitches, but you don’t need to preside over what they’re doing.” He replied. “Do you remember when we met?”  
  
“Shit Bull,” she swore and cringed as she felt the sting of a needle in her thigh and the clamping of hands to hold her leg still, “yeah. Yeah I do.” She breathed steadily and focussed of the way his fingertips felt along her scalp, the way they massaged and comforted.  
  
“I honestly thought you were going to die in the first few months.” He said with a huff of laughter. “I wanted you to live, obviously, but you were already a fully-fledged woman and couldn’t even hold a sword or throw a punch.”  
  
“Still can’t punch really.” She half joked and bit her lip as another stitch was done.  
  
“Do you need me to get a mage to knock you out?” he asked softly. “The supplies are low- lots of wounded being tended to but I’m sure that ‘vint mage could cast a sleeping spell.” She shook her head stubbornly.  
  
“Let him look after the others.” She said and he leaned closer to take up all her attention. “Can’t feel much – just a sting.”  
  
“The cold took its toll and you lost a lot of blood.” He said calmly. “But that’s what you get when you fight your way through a Templar squad.” He chuckled. “We could see you from the ledge, only for a moment as you were leaving Adaar, Templars moving to flank her on that path and right into you. You cut them down so easily the troops were cheering as we fled.”  
  
“Didn’t feel easy.” She said breathily as her hand moved to grip at his side which he welcomed by holding her arm to him.  
  
“It never does. And it never should.” He almost lectured her. “Killing shouldn’t feel simple, not when the people we kill have families.”  
  
“This from a mercenary.” Ivy laughed lazily and he tapped her head softly in a scolding manner.  
  
“You’ve come so far.” His voice was almost sad. “I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together before Kirkwall.”  
  
“I’ll just have to monopolise your time now.” She said as her eyes watered and fought to stay open despite the pain radiating throughout her. “Teach you how to write a damn letter.” She huffed tiredly.  
  
“A letter?” he chuckled. “After all those ones I sent you I think we both know I’m not the one bad at writing letters.” She blinked at him and frowned, shaking her head and nuzzling into his wrist as it rested by her face.  
  
“I only got one.” His thumb traced along the bridge of her nose gently. “Saying that you were handing yourself in, maybe the others got lost.”  
  
“Maybe.” He said as if he didn’t believe it. “But it doesn’t matter, I’d rather be right here than reading your poor handwriting in any case.” She hummed and closed her eyes wincing as the healer sped through stitching her together again. “You scared the shit out of me Ivy.” He almost whispered. “All of us, running off to play the hero like that.”  
  
“You’re angry with me?”  
  
“No.” he raised her hand to kiss at her knuckles, pressing his lips against her skin for a long moment. “I know you will fight to the best of your ability and you wouldn’t take a risk unless you thought it necessary. I’m proud of you, that you’ve become a warrior when you once thought you could never be.”  
  
“I had a good instructor.” She smiled at him and he leaned forward, careful not to bump her as he pressed his warm, rough lips to her cold ones in a gentle kiss. Her fingers touched at his cheek and his twined in her hair, causing Ivy to forget where she was for the moment and focus only on him, the way he half smiled as he pulled back only to return again, taking small kisses as if he were sipping the life from her parted lips. “I’m not the only one who needs to get their stance straight.” Ivy teased him and he smiled.

A sharp pain and she couldn’t stop her leg from jerking, Cullen’s tight grip keeping her still enough to prevent any damage.  
  
“Almost done.” The Commander reassured her with a faked smile over Bull’s shoulder. “Solas.” He called as the elf walked by wiping blood from his hands with a cloth. “Can you put her to sleep?” Solas walked up and Ivy could see his brow raising in surprise as he looked at her leg.  
  
“I’m surprised you’re even awake Captain.” Solas said and reached two fingers towards her forehead. Ivy jerked her head away suddenly, her heartbeat picking up as illogical panic swelled in her. Bull shushed her and ran his palm along her hair again.  
  
“I’ll stay here.” He reassured her. “I won’t let anyone come near you while you’re passed out.” She breathed through her nose in long draws before swallowing thickly, nodding in permission, a moment later she felt cool fingertips against her forehead and then nothing.  
  


She awoke and it was night time, the air still and people milling around the area.  
  
“About time you woke up.” Krem said from beside her and Ivy looked to him confused, blinking for a moment before attempting to sit up and remembering all the places she hurt. “Drink some water.” Krem pushed an opened waterskin into her view and she took it and carefully drank the contents, still managing to spill water onto the heavy fur that covered her. He took the waterskin back and watched her warily, almost checking her over for any extra injuries.  
  
“This is Bull’s fur.” Ivy said and her voice was rough, she slowly carded her fingers along the brown-black softness and Krem hummed in confirmation.  
  
“He wanted to be here when you woke up but I insisted he got some rest. You’ve been asleep for over a day, we had to move camp and he carried you for the whole damn hike.” He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “You’re as stubborn as each other.”  
  
“What about Adaar?” Ivy asked and tentatively shifted to swing her legs over the side of the cot, the stitches in her thigh pulled uncomfortably but it was bearable.   
  
“She arrived just a couple of hours ago. The Commander found her along the upper ridge, seems like she hauled herself all the way here and the four of them haven’t stopped arguing since.”  
  
“Who?” Ivy asked as she winced at a sting on her side, she carefully lifted her shirt to see stitches in her side also. Krem picked up Bull’s fur and wrapped it around Ivy’s shoulders to keep her warm.  
  
“The council and the Seeker. It’s sad to see it really, it’s putting the troops on edge.”  
  
“Fucking hell.” Ivy swore before she stood up slowly, Krem hovering around her in case she collapsed. “Cullen should know better than that.”  
  
“Don’t be hard on him.” Krem said softly as they walked slowly towards the arguing four. “They’ve just had their asses handed to them, they thought Adaar was gone and all of a sudden we’ve got a new enemy when we thought we had won.” Ivy could see the four of them break away angrily, Leliana and Josephine sitting of some crates while Cassandra stormed back to a map and Cullen wandered back towards Ivy, eyes cast down onto the snow. Ivy’s balance faltered slightly and Krem stepped in close, his arm steadying her and Ivy’s hand rested on his shoulder, happy for the support.

Adaar walked out of the tent to see the scene before her, her long white hair falling over her shoulder messily as she caught Ivy’s gaze and gave her a nod. Ivy half bowed back, glad to see that the woman had made it back alright. A moment later someone began to sing, light and clear in the dark snow echoed by Leliana and soon others joined in, a soldier passed in front of Ivy singing as they walked towards Adaar and it brought a smile to Cullen’s face prompting him to join the choir as they began to kneel in front of Adaar. Krem gave Ivy a smile and she nodded to him as they both gently went to one knee, rallying together in the darkness. Beside her Cullen kneeled, his relieved smile radiant as he took Ivy’s hand and squeezed it.  
  


They buried those who died overnight and packed up the camp, the crisp morning air sharp on their lungs as the canvases were pulled down and placed back on the wagons. Now conscious and able to give orders Ivy directed the healers in packing up and who to place on the second wagon for transport. Thankfully there weren’t too many injured considering they evacuated earlier instead of trying to hold Haven so those who were injured could fit mostly on the wagon, only a few had to be carried on stretchers by the troops.

Ivy couldn’t lift anything or carry things and she managed to pop a stitch that morning but she was still determined to help out and thankfully Bull decided that he’d make up for the lifting that she couldn’t do, listening to her orders as he hauled the heavy objects to the wagons and taking anything she carried off of her while scolding her teasingly. Once packed and ready to go they faced another issue, how to get the people and wagons through the snow in the direction that Adaar was leading them. As soon as Cullen voiced his concern Dorian came up and clapped the Commander on the shoulder with a wry grin.  
  
“Such a Templar train of thought to dig out the snow.” Dorian teased and Cullen frowned at him. “Leave that problem to the Mages.” And, sure enough, within half an hour the wagons were being pulled along easily over the snow.

They began to walk, following Adaar like some kind of exodus and Ivy sighed heavily as she thought of the next however-many weeks of irritation against her wounds.  
  
“Ivy.” Bull said to get her attention and suddenly picked her up, lifting her easily to sit her on the wagon that was pulling supplies. “This way I won’t have to listen to your complaints.” He teased her.  
  
“I can’t hitch a ride while everyone else is exhausting themselves.” Ivy protested and began to wriggle off.  
  
“ _Commander._ ” Bull called as he shuffled Ivy back onto the wagon properly.  
  
“Captain,” Cullen called from halfway up the procession, “if you remove yourself from that wagon you’ll be digging latrines for a week.” Ivy glared at Bull and his grin was unbearably smug.  
  
“You’re teaming up against me.” Ivy accused him. “I’m not sure that’s fair.”  
  
“Yes dear.” Bull teased.  
  


Mid afternoon Ivy was sketching in her book, Bull still walking a few paces in front of her as she rode on the back of the wagon, legs dangling off the edge as they slowly made their way through the more hospitable paths while Adaar, Solas and a couple of others went on ahead through the harder but quicker areas.  
  
“So where we headed?” Bull asked Ivy casually but quietly.  
  
“Somewhere good. You’ll like it.” She replied.  
  
“I’ll like it if it’s warm.” He grumbled as he shook of some snow that had gathered on him.  
  
“Well,” Ivy hesitated, “the Tavern will be warm.”   
  
“Good enough I guess.”  
  


They stopped just before sunset and set up all the tents again, the wounded carefully placed under the largest tent and Ivy busied herself with checking the wounds for infection and taking stock of what medical supplies they did have. The mages were exhausted from clearing the way for the wagons and so there were few to assist Ivy with healing, the ones that could focussed on the people close to death, giving them another day to fight their way back to health.  
  
“Healing is very difficult to do.” Vivienne told Ivy casually as she watched over the mages who were available to heal, the woman seemed to be unable to trust mages outside of a circle and was determined that the ones in the Inquisition behaved themselves. “Fire and Ice is simple, it is a way of channelling your emotions, giving vitality and cursing is much the same. But healing requires someone to know intimately how the body works, to be able to feel another person’s life in your hands and hold it while you mould their body together, mages who heal in that sense have to be almost altruistic and willing to fight for something apart from themselves.”  
  
“What about people who raise the dead?” Ivy asked curiously.  
  
“That just requires someone who wants to control.” She said offhandedly. “You can never truly bring someone back to life, remember that the undead we see are merely mindless shambles of what they once were.”  
  
“Can’t say I’ve seen any undead before.”  
  
“Then you are fortunate.” Vivienne said flatly before wandering away to monitor other mages.  
  


It was quiet in the camp, most people asleep and the inner circle gathered with Adaar as she listened to their council in her tent while Ivy was sitting by a campfire unable to shake the cold enough to sleep. She stared at the darkness that encroached just on the borders of the large camp, her fingers idly tracing over the cool metal of the tooth at her wrist and along the leather cord. Movement beside her dragged her attention to Bull who was kneeling in the snow close to her, he sighed and smiled tightly as he pulled her hand away from its fidgeting on the tooth and grasped it in his own. She looked behind him to see the inner circle walking out of the tent soundlessly, talking among themselves.  
  
“Let’s go.” Bull said quietly before standing and pulling her with him. “I think after the day we’ve had we can stand to be in each other’s company for the night.” He smiled at her tiredly and she nodded once, letting him guide her to his tent with their hands still clasped.

He lied onto his furs with a groan, letting the stresses of the day ebb away as he relaxed and Ivy was more careful as she settled down, the stitches in awkward spots to allow smooth movement. Pulling her in to tuck under his arm and press the line of her body along his side he sighed contentedly, his eye closed as she rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
“When your leg is better,” Bull spoke softly, “we’re going to do daily one on one training. Those Templars were much bigger than you and you are trying to match them strength to strength, you need to learn how to use their size against them.” Ivy sighed.  
  
“You said you were proud of me before.” She complained.  
  
“I am.” He insisted. “But it’s still hard to watch you fight for your life and not be able to reach you.” He scooped up her hand and pulled it to press a kiss against her wrist. “I refuse to become accustomed to seeing you unconscious on a stretcher, I’ve seen it far too often already.”  
  
“Is that why you carried me to the next camp?” she asked teasingly and he huffed.  
  
“Krem.” He accused his soldier lightly. “It was one of the reasons. I did promise not to let anyone else near you while you were unconscious.”  
  
“You’re adorable.” She said with a yawn and he chuckled.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone, you’ll ruin my reputation.”  
  


It was the next day before Cullen managed to pull away from his duties long enough to check up on her. He walked beside the wagon that she sat on, frowning as he made his way along the snow. The sunlight was glinting off both his armour and the snow and he still moved effortlessly despite the trials of the last couple of days. Barely a shadow of stubble graced his jaw and Ivy wondered when he actually found time to shave given his workload.  
  
“How’s the wounds?” he asked and she gave him a smile.  
  
“Itchy. Healing.” She said and leaned on the edge of the wagon to look at him properly. “How are you?”  
  
“About the same.” He chuckled. “We got out okay, despite the size of the force, very few were killed considering our situation.”  
  
“That’s good.” Ivy nodded. “Unfortunately minimizing our losses was the best we could have done.”  
  
“But we are still crippled, we lost most of our resources in Haven.” Cullen said quietly.  
  
“We’ll make it.” Ivy reassured him. “We’re stronger than we look.” He smiled and laughed to himself.  
  
“Your faith in us is unshakable isn’t it?” He asked not really expecting an answer and Ivy just winked at him, the creaking of the wagon and the crunch of snow the only sounds between them for a short while. Cullen cleared his throat and looked to the wheel of the wagon, staring at it instead of looking at her. “I’m glad that you and Iron Bull are getting along finally.” He spoke so they would not be overheard and Ivy watched him as he idly tapped at the wood of the wagon. “I didn’t think much of him until he carried you to the camp. It was all day, you were unconscious and wrapped in his furs, he wouldn’t leave your side or allow anyone to take you on a stretcher – most of the troops offered by the way, they were worried that you were still asleep.” He laughed and shook his head. “Even Adaar stepped in and told him to let you be carried by someone else, he just refused and said that he intended to keep his promise to you.” Cullen’s smile was breathtaking as he looked up and grinned at her. “I think you suit each other well.”  
  
“Thank you.” Ivy said softly.  
  
“As long as he keeps looking after you then I think I’ll let him be in your life.” He half joked and half threatened, his smile unwavering.   
  
“You know that we’re not in a relationship right?” Ivy asked and he shrugged.  
  
“I think if you care about someone and want to spend time with them, keep them warm, carry them to safety and have the added bonus of being intimate with them than you’re just kidding yourself if you think you’re not in a relationship.” Cullen scolded her.  
  
“It’s more complicated than that.”  
  
“Then you’re both idiots. Because it’s simple and if _I_ can see it everyone else can and you two should just get on with it.” He laughed at her glare and scooped up some snow easily to flick it at her. “We’re at war Ivy, suffering and death is going to be inevitable and you should take the bull by the horns – so to speak.” She snorted a laugh at the phrase and Cullen winked at her before striding ahead to a soldier who was waving for his attention.  
  


The lumbering procession made its way through the peaks of the Frostback Mountains, days of hiking and camping in the snow and the people grew weary as the rations and supplies dwindled, hunting and herbs in short supply as nothing could survive for long in the cold, about the only thing in abundance was rock and ice. The lack of medical supplies meant the wounded were having trouble fighting off infection, Ivy among them as her wounds began to fester. They were doing everything they could to keep the injured clean but bathing in the cold risked illness and there was a lack of clean bandages and clothes - Ivy’s pants were still ripped and bloodied from the battle days ago.

Despite the cold Ivy was sweating as she leaned back on the wagon, her hand clutching at her side as it throbbed unhappily. She was fighting a fever which was caused by infection and she must have looked like shit because Cullen and Iron Bull kept talking to each other in hushed whispers.   
  
“When Solas returns tonight I’ll have him take a look at you.” Cullen reassured Ivy and she watched him walk beside her with a smile that looked plastered on his face, his faked _everything is fine_ smile.  
  
“He should tend to the ones who need it more.” Ivy rasped, her mouth dry from the fever. “Hinley didn’t look great this morning, that leg has to come off.” Cullen squeezed her hand and looked to the ground.  
  
“Hinley died an hour ago.” He said quietly, slipping his gauntlet off to feel at her forehead and he obviously didn’t like what he felt from the look he gave Iron Bull. “I’m going to find a potion, or pull out one of the mages so they can come down the procession and see if they can do anything about this fever.” Cullen said with determination before smiling at Ivy and striding away. Ivy closed her eyes and tried to rest and allow her body to fight.  
  


She opened her eyes to the feel of hot fingers on her arm, tracing over the necklace gently and brushing against her skin. The blurry form slowly took shape, long silver hair and broad horns that swept back, the gold adornments shining in the afternoon light. The Arishok gave her a half smile and reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear.  
  
“Time to wake up, Kadan.” He said gently and she stared at him, blinking in tired confusion. “If you’re going to die, do so on the battlefield and not from something as simple as an infection.” He scolded her teasingly.  
  
“What are you doing here?” She asked and her own voice sounded far away. He gave her an incredulous look.  
  
“Where else would I be?” he replied.  
  
“Who are you talking to Ivy?” Bull asked and slowed his pace to be beside the wagon and give her a queer smile. She took a deep, laboured breath and squeezed her eyes shut turning her head away, when she reopened them and turned back there was just Bull watching her with a blank face.   
  
“I don’t feel right.” She said lamely before her stomach tried to crawl up her throat, she managed to sit up and lean over the edge of the wagon before retching up bile onto the snow as Bull swore profusely. Bull was holding her hair back and splashing water onto her face to help her calm down when Ivy heard Cullen’s voice.  
  
“Found a potion-” he said and was cut off by Bull.  
  
“She’s not going to keep it down long enough to work.” Bull said and she could hear the stress in his voice. “Infection is in her blood now, we need a mage and something strong to fight the surface infection.”  
  
“We’re barely fifteen minutes from making camp in a clearing, I’ll send a runner to get Solas now. Those other mages are too exhausted to be of much use but the most we have to fight the infection is salves.” Cullen said. “What about your healer? Can he make something with the supplies we have?”  
  
“If he can’t then he’s going to be out of a job.” Bull threatened although Stitches was out of earshot. “ _Krem._ ” Bull called down the line as he lowered Ivy back onto her back and pulled a fur around her. She had no idea where the fur came from and complained in a whimper that she didn’t know, her body wasn’t obeying her and she was missing large chunks of the conversation that was happening.  
  


A jolt brought her back to herself and the procession had stopped, Iron Bull was carefully lifting her out of the wagon as soldiers rushed around them to pull off the supplies and set up the camp. Someone placed a stretcher on the ground away from the wagon and Iron Bull lowered her onto it gently, making sure the fur wasn’t underneath her as he rolled her onto her side. Ivy could hear a small hissing sound as people knelt around her, and she lolled her head to the side to see Stitches holding a large vial of some kind of bubbling smoky liquid.  
  
“What the hell is that?” Krem asked before Ivy managed to form the question in her head.  
  
“About all I could make with what we had.” Stitches grumbled. “This will blast the infection away, but it’s all I got and I can’t make more. We need to hold her still so I can get it into the wounds and not spill any.”  
  
“What about the rest of the infection? The fever?” Bull demanded to know.  
  
“Going to need a mage to give her immune system a boost. Roll her back a bit.” Stitches ordered and she was pulled back slightly so her side was straight, hands supporting her to be still as Stitches pulled her thigh forward to reveal the wound. He then loosened her armour and it was slipped off, the cold air bracing in its absence and her shirt was rucked up to show her side.  
  
“This one isn’t too bad.” The surgeon commented as his cold fingers prodded at the inflamed skin. “It didn’t go as deep as the leg, but we’ll do both of them anyway.” He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a small length of wood that was wrapped in leather. “Captain,” he hunched to meet her glazed over stare, “I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to feel like someone is pouring molten lead onto your skin, I need you to bite down onto this and try to keep still.” Ivy stared at the offending bit with apprehension before nodding once and letting Stitches push it into her mouth. It felt foreign and made her already laboured breathing difficult and loud.  
  
“Hold her.” Bull ordered and lots of hands pressured against her limbs and Bull’s arm snaked across her chest to cradle her head, immobilising her torso. He kissed her shoulder quickly in comfort before nodding to Stitches who let out a shaky breath and gripped her hip to steady himself.

The first drop felt like someone had shoved an ice pick into her side and each consecutive drop thereafter felt just like he had described, like someone was dousing her in molten lead slowly. She instantly bucked and was held still by the strong hands, her teeth biting down on the leather hard as she screamed around it and her fingernails digging in where her hands gripped. Ivy barely noticed the people stop and look on anxiously as she tensed and writhed and after what felt like an eternity Stitches pulled back to place the vial on the snow and slather a salve over the wound on her side. As the pain ebbed away slowly she dropped the bit out of her mouth and it fell onto the snow with a string of saliva. She had managed to push up enough that her head was off the stretcher and being completely supported by Bull’s elbow.  
  
“Still with us Captain?” Stitches asked before repositioning her thigh.  
  
“I hope you feel fucking proud of yourself you fucking bastard.” Ivy gasped and the Chargers laughed.   
  
“Okay, deep breath, we’re going to do the leg.” Stitches warned. “I’m going to count to three.” He said and Ivy relaxed a small bit until he poured the potion onto her wound without counting at all. Her scream was harsh as she tried to claw and arch away, it was enough that Cullen jogged over from where he was directing the soldiers and knelt by her head to pick up the bit from the snow, carefully placing it back into her mouth before carding his fingers through her hair and saying reassuring and useless words.

It took so long, the length of the wound resulting in the surgeon’s careful dribbling of the offensive liquid and slow pace, soon enough Ivy’s throat was hurting and she was just whimpering and gasping for air as she clutched onto Cullen’s mantle and Bull’s arm, her hair falling across her face and dragging on the snow.  
  
“Ivy,” Bull said softly and tried to shift her head to get her attention, “it’s done. Solas is here now.” She spat the bit out onto the snow again and breathed heavily as her heart pounded in her chest. He helped her rest properly on the stretcher and she winced as she lay on her back, her eyes barely open to see Solas smile reassuringly at her before his hands began to glow with a soft green light, it felt cool and tingling, refreshing after what she had just experienced.  
  
“You’ll recover quickly.” Solas said flatly as he cast the light over her. “With the source of the infection gone it will be easier to fight back but I suggest you refrain from your usual duties for the next couple of days.”   
  
“Didn’t know you were a healer.” She rasped and he quirked a smile at her.  
  
“This is the extent of my healing unfortunately. Get some sleep Captain, you’ll feel better in the morning.”  
  


Morning came and she begrudgingly acknowledged that Solas was right, she did feel better. Rolling her head she looked around, she was on a stretcher under a large canvas shelter with the other wounded - a soldier to her left was snoring softly and to her right was a woman who was staring up at the canvas unblinking. Ivy shifted, sitting up with stiff muscles and dragging her legs over the side of the makeshift bed before bracing herself on the woman’s cot. She didn’t move and Ivy pressed her fingers to the woman’s neck in search of a pulse, there was nothing but freezing cold skin.  
  
“Shit.” Ivy swore to herself before reaching up and closing the woman’s eyelids. “ _Sister._ ” She called roughly and a Lay Sister scurried to her, stopping when she saw Ivy hovering over the woman. “She needs her rites said.” The Lay Sister nodded solemnly as Ivy stood properly and stiffly made her way to the centre of the camp.

Ivy passed Cole hanging around the wagons and mumbling to himself while others deconstructed the camp in order to move on for the day. The people had an excited vibe as they moved quickly, smiles on their faces despite their hunger and tiredness and Ivy was momentarily confused as to why until she found Cullen, Cassandra and Leliana standing on a ridge that overlooked a valley.  
  
“You’re awake.” Leliana said as she watched Ivy approach with a measuring gaze, Ivy had no doubt that the woman instantly knew the location and status of her injuries just by watching her subject walk. “How do you feel?”  
  
“The wounded has become walking wounded.” Ivy half smiled at the redhead. “Just glad to be on two feet again really.”  
  
“I’m surprised that potion didn’t kill you.” Cassandra casually said as she looked over the horizon and Ivy stepped up to look at what they were gazing at.  
  
“Can you see it?” Cullen asked Ivy and she shook her head with a scrunched up nose, he moved to be behind her and pointed, his head and arm close to her so she could follow his line of sight. She could see the rough shape of a tower nestled on the peak of a mountain, the valley between them stretching out as a river snaked along its belly, ice cracked and floating idly in plates on the water.   
  
“Is that a fortress?” Ivy asked, still squinting. What she looking at Skyhold?  
  
“It is.” Cullen said with a smile. “Hopefully it is not in ruins or occupied. I make it to be just over a day’s travel, we should arrive mid-morning tomorrow.” Ivy couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, they were finally close to having a home again.  
  
“We should send scouts ahead tomorrow to clear out any unwanted presence.” Cassandra said and Leliana nodded in agreement.   
  
“That river looks hazardous.” Ivy said mostly to herself.  
  
“There is a small natural land bridge to the south – there.” Leliana pointed out the thin strip of land and Ivy nodded. “But the water is flowing fast, we can see it even from up here. Must be a waterfall nearby.”   
  
“At least drinking water won’t be a problem.” Cullen said. “As soon as we arrive we’ll send out parties to scour for resources.” Ivy looked at him and grinned.  
  
“Told you we’d make it.” She teased before elbowing him playfully and making her way back to help out in the camp, her spirits lifted at the sight of Skyhold.  
  


Iron Bull returned from scouting with Adaar’s party that night and the first thing he did was find Ivy who was stargazing away from the crowd of the camp and wrap his arms around her, leaning in to take a deep breath and nuzzle at her neck.  
  
“You smell much better.” He said and smiled as she pulled back slightly to give him a questioning look. “Less like rot and death and more like your healthy, normal self.”  
  
“I don’t know how you could have been around me if I smelled like _rot_.” Ivy said and he shrugged.  
  
“Unfortunately it’s one of those smells you get used to as Ben-Hassrath. Now, roses, those I can’t stand. All fragrant and sharp.” He pulled her closer to lean her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to her cheekbone. “But you smell like,” he inhaled sharply which tickled her skin, “Embrium and,” he sniffed again and she couldn’t help but giggle at the tickling sensation, “Dawn Lotus oil, leather. Earthy and natural.” He smiled at her before turning her gently in his arms, looking down at her with mischief in his eye.   
  
“You smell like you’ve been hiking all day.” Ivy teased as her hand reached up to cup at his jaw, urging him to lean down to her and pressing her lips against his when he did. The barest hint of a contented growl slipped from his throat before his hands were roaming lazily over her back and getting tangled in her curls. “You taste good though.” She said in a rasp and he smirked at her.  
  
“Stay with me tonight.” He insisted gently and she tilted her head in mock consideration. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”  
  
“I don’t promise that.” She teased and he grinned, kissing her suddenly before stepping away reluctantly.   
  
“I have to go report in, make sure the Chargers are behaving.” He said quietly. “My tent is directly north of the farthest campfire.”  
  
“I haven’t said I would yet.” She half scolded him and he stepped back in to kiss her again.  
  
“Let me keep you warm.” He rumbled with a sly smile and she felt a blush on her cheeks, words escaped her and she just responded with a lame nod. He kissed the corner of her mouth before backing away again and striding off to harass his mercenaries.  
  


Ivy paused outside of Bull’s tent which was marked by his greatsword sticking out of the snow near the entrance, she laughed to herself, shaking her head at the marker and carefully ducked into the tent. Getting her armour off was a trial but she refused to sleep in it, the leather stiffening in the cold and making it uncomfortable to sleep in even if it helped her stay warm. The greaves and boots came off first and she put them to the side neatly, the chestpiece proving more difficult as she undid its straps and tried to lift it off without twisting or rubbing the leather against her wound in any way. Bull chose to enter at that moment and his smile at her predicament almost got him into trouble with her until he knelt and helped with taking off the armour. He placed it aside as she huffed and shook her hair away from her face, his hand reaching up to smooth it back before his lips found the junction of her shoulder and neck.  
  
“Were your Chargers behaving?” She asked idly as he helped her unbutton the thick gambeson that kept her warm.  
  
“Of course not.” He replied. “I almost feel like a Tamrassan scolding a bunch of misbehaving children whenever I check up on them.” Ivy chuckled at the image of Bull being paternal with them.  
  
“Surely Krem was keeping them in line.” She sighed as the heavy jacket was slipped from her shoulders and tossed to join her armour in the corner.  
  
“Don’t let him fool you, he instigates it most of the time.” He grumbled and lifted the side of her shirt to try and see her wound in the low light. The cool air made her skin prickle and the feeling intensified as Bull’s hot hands rested on her skin, touching just underneath her tunic and tracing patterns with his fingertips. She leaned into him with a sigh and revelled in his warmth, gently he lay back, settling her on her back on the fur as she propped himself up on his side, looking down at her with a smile.

His kiss was long and heated, his tongue languidly dancing along hers gracefully as his thumb massaged along her ribs. She sighed contentedly and felt his smile against her lips, reluctantly he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers with a small bump, her hands coming up to cup at his jaw and rub gently just behind his ears.  
  
“What is it?” She asked breathily as he kissed her again with a lazy huff of laughter.  
  
“You’re injured,” he said and his voice was slightly strained, “we should sleep. And I don’t want to explain to the Lay Sisters why you’ve pulled a stitch in the middle of the night.”  
  
“I want to see that.” She said with a smile and he laughed, rolling onto his back and gently pulling Ivy to be pressed along the long line of his body. She settled onto him easily, completely relaxing the moment she was tucked under his arm, her head on his shoulder and hand splayed across his chest.  
  
“We arrive at this Skyhold place tomorrow.” He said quietly in the dark. “About damn time.”  
  


Ivy was walking – awkwardly but still walking – along a path that was gradually becoming large cobblestones that lead to a blissfully intact bridge and ran through the old gate and into Skyhold proper. Breathing deeply of the crisp air she stared up at the walls, partially intact and in need of repairs and the large towers that adorned them. As they passed under the stone archway people spoke in a low hush, almost fearful of ghosts and the spirits that surely resided in such an old and forgotten place. Debris was everywhere and it was going to take a lot to get this place close enough to liveable, let alone hospitable, but that didn’t stop the smile that graced Ivy’s face.   
  
“What do you think?” Cullen asked quietly and Ivy turned to see his hopeful eyes. “Will it work?” Ivy grinned at him which caused his own smile to break out.  
  
“Commander, I do believe you’ve got yourself the makings of something great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the hardest chapter to write so far, I'm glad it's up and done. Damn walking through snow and crap *grumble grumble*


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month of no sleep and little food, a month of walking through this real-life horror movie and for nothing. She could feel her jaw clenching as she ground her teeth to prevent herself from telling them all to shove their orders.

Ivy shouldered open a door in one of the towers of Skyhold, it was nearly frozen shut but after some cajoling with her shoulder it budged and scraped along the stone floor stiffly to reveal a large open room that had old rotting wooden crates scattered along the floor and stacked precariously in the corner.  
  
“An old storehouse?” asked Michal, a retired-turned-Inquisition soldier who was accompanying Ivy with exploring the towers and walls on Cullen’s request. They were to assess the rooms and mark any weak spots in the building such as holes in the walls or rotting beams.   
  
“Looks like it.” Ivy said as she edged through the room carefully, despite how intact the structure looked she was still being careful. “This one leads straight to the gatehouse, probably best point for loading and unloading any supplies that come through.”   
  
“I’ll mark it.” Michal said gruffly before scribbling on a parchment he held with charcoal. “Commander will probably want to keep it as a storeroom.” Ivy made an affirming noise and looked in an old opened crate – rotten straw and old pottery. “Let’s keep going.” Michal said before he strode to the far side of the room and throwing his shoulder into the next door and opening it to step through to the battlements.

Ivy moved to follow when a change in the wall caught her eye, curiously she walked over, seeing the wall jut forward slightly to hide a small step that led to a door. Looking straight at the wall she almost didn’t see it, the stone walls creating an optical illusion and seeming like it was one continuous wall. She tested her weight on each of the five steps that led to the door, they were wooden but somehow still sturdy and the door was also wooden with the planks of it thinning between the gaps to shine through a small amount of light. The metal handle moved easily and she pushed the door open to reveal a small alcove which had a bed and fireplace – perhaps somewhere the overseer of the storeroom slept. On the far side a small slit in the stonework allowed enough light and air in to make it somewhat pleasant.  
  
“You coming Captain?” She heard Michel call from somewhat far away and she closed the door before catching up with the old soldier.  
  


Skyhold was surprisingly intact for a fortress that was in the middle of nowhere on top of a mountain and exposed to the harsh elements. It seemed like no one had occupied it for some time and that meant no one had maintained it but still there were only a couple of roofs that needed to be repaired and walls to be rebuilt.  
  
“We will have to find someone to go over it with a trained eye.” Ivy reported to Cullen and Adaar in the courtyard area at the base of the stairs. “I saw some rotted beams but who knows how much of it requires reinforcement.”  
  
“Of course, thank you Captain.” Adaar said and Ivy nodded and turned on her heels to help out the healers in setting up.

It took a while to settle in to the new location but they were so busy the time flew past. Volunteers and new recruits started arriving after a few weeks once the word was spread that the Inquisition survived and supplies started to arrive from local nobles and merchants. Strangely enough although the storeroom by the gatehouse was in use and filling quickly from the supplies no one had discovered the smaller alcove and so Ivy decided, after a few weeks of it being untouched, that it was going to be her quarters.

The room suited her needs, it was warm, had a bed and was far enough away from the barracks that she didn’t have to worry about talking in her sleep or having any accidental visions while living with the troops – something that always caused her stress when she was in Ferelden. Some of the soldiers noticed her absence from the barracks and offered to secure a cot for her in case she had been too swamped with duties but she politely declined leading to the rumour that she was staying in Iron Bull’s quarters near the tavern on a nightly basis. This rumour was quickly discovered by Bull who was amused by it for about a week until he learned that it was partially true – at least in the sense that she wasn’t sleeping with the troops in the barracks like she was supposed to.

In truth Ivy was unsure of where she stood with Iron Bull still, the dangerous travel to Skyhold sparking something long held back between them only for it to be pushed aside during the busy chaos of securing and making Skyhold liveable, let alone a halfway decent base for the Inquisition. They were stretched thin and almost too occupied to see each other – it didn’t help that Adaar was taking Bull up on his offer to be her bodyguard more often than not.

They managed to find moments together but they were rarely alone, the few times being when Bull stumbled upon her sorting through supplies, her main job until she was cleared for active duty, and he would manage to get his arms wrapped around her and his lips on hers before someone would barge in and spoil the moment.

It was a just over a month after arriving at Skyhold that Ivy was given an assignment to scout out unfamiliar territory and report any Templar activity, one that Cullen gave her reluctantly but considering most other scouts were already out in the field he had little choice but to stop coddling her and let her do her job.

Krem found her as she was grooming her mare in the stables and packing the saddlebags full of supplies ready for departure the next morning, he looked her over once and gave an approving smile at the newly repaired armour she wore which was reinforced across her chest with a metal half-plate.   
  
“Bull wants to see you.” Krem said and Ivy could tell that his current order was to find her and tell her of Bull’s wish.  
  
“He too busy to find me himself?” Ivy asked suspiciously and Krem shrugged.  
  
“Adaar has him preparing for some trip west into Emprise Du Lion. They leave tomorrow as well.” Krem said and idly stroked the mare’s nose. “He’ll be in his quarters after dusk.” He left her to her packing.

Ivy knocked on the door to Bull’s quarters and waited for the rumble of his voice to give her permission to enter. Once given she opened the door to a pleasant wave of heat, his fireplace crackling across the room, complimented by the smell of oiled leather and metal. Bull was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, book in hand and furs on the ground and he looked up to give her a half smile, beckoning her over with a wave of his hand.  
  
“I hear they cleared you for duty.” He said and she nodded, kneeling in front of him to settle on the fur. “You being sent out already?”  
  
“Fallow Mire.” Ivy said with a thread of unhappiness. “A squad will follow in a couple of days to set up a base camp.”  
  
“You’re going alone?” he asked in surprise as he poured wine into a goblet and handed it to her, she nodded and hummed, taking the goblet and shifting to sit closer to him, her side touching his crossed legs.  
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Ivy said to try and reassure him. “I just skirt the region and note any places of interest or any activity. I’m not like Harding who goes in with a full squad to establish Inquisition presence.”  
  
“Still,” he said unhappily, “I haven’t heard of anyone else being sent on their own.” He looped his arm around her waist and inched her closer to plant a kiss on her cheek as she took a sip of the wine. “You’re riding out with us in the morning?”  
  
“No I’ll be leaving at dawn.” She said with a sigh. “You know how bad Adaar is at waking up, I doubt you’ll leave until mid-morning.” He chuckled and nodded in agreeance, his hand tracing the straps of her armour at her side.  
  
“Then we’ll have to make the most of tonight.” He rumbled and Ivy looked at him with a raised eyebrow and was met with a grin.  
  
“That’s forward of you.” Ivy joked and his grin grew wider.  
  
“I think you’ll find I’ve been very reserved lately.” He replied and his smile sent a shiver down her spine, she felt her cheeks heat with a blush and she sighed and took another sip.  
  
“Damn it Bull you shouldn’t still be able to make me blush.”  
  
“I like that I can.” He said simply before the side of her armour loosened, he had undone the buckles without her noticing and a moment later the opposite side came loose. Ivy looked down at the loose straps before shooting Bull an accusatory glare to which he smiled innocently, his hands slipping under the armour and lifting it free.

Leather armour discarded to an out of reach part of the room she sat in her long linen shirt and smalls on the bed, Iron Bull still sitting on the floor and nearly purring as she ran her hands along his bare shoulders, massaging the tense muscles with embrium oil to loosen them.   
  
“I should be back in a month.” He said between appreciative groans and Ivy smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “You should be about the same?”  
  
“Yeah, won’t take me long to scout out the area. The travel will take up most of it.” She sighed as her hands pushed into his grey skin and he hummed happily, Ivy's stomach was doing little flips as she listened to him, happy that it was her fingers that was the cause of the sound. Her hands slid forward and trailed along the tops of his shoulders to brush at his collarbones, trailing upwards to trace along his neck and jaw to behind his ears. Taking notes on what spots got the best reaction from him - the back of his jaw and hollow of his neck - Ivy was all of a sudden taken with a desire to know _all_ the places that made him react that way. She wanted to learn about each inch of his skin, if he preferred soft or hard touches, forwardness or reservation. Bull had been so careful with her lately as if she were immensely fragile and she didn't hate it but it was a far cry from the man she kissed before leaving for Kirkwall.

It was, of course, no comparison. So many years had passed and she shouldn't be rushing to find that man again. The Iron Bull who was in front of her now and sighing contentedly beneath her fingers was the one she truly wanted and it probably wouldn't kill her to take it slowly, but that nagging heat was ever present in her abdomen, the same heat that urged her on to press her lips to the back of his jaw to discover that it truly was a sensitive spot for him and judging by the breathy groan and how his hand reached up to touch at the back of her head to keep her there, how he craned his neck to give her better access, the sensitivity was a positive one.

His pulse jumped beneath her lips and she made the decision to do as Cullen suggested - take the Bull by the horns, just not so literally - standing she stepped around the corner of the bed to face him, sinking down to straddle his lap as he smiled and raised his hands lazily to grasp at her hips. Letting her own hands fall onto his chest the oil that remained on her skin left a warm trail as she slowly drew her hands further down to drag a contented sigh from him.   
  
“This scar is new.” Ivy said as she ran her fingers over his collarbone lightly, he hummed and lay his head back to rest on the bed.  
  
“Got it from Haven.” He said simply and Ivy leaned forward to let her lips press against the rough flesh of the scar, a hand raised to grasp at the back of her neck, encouraging her to continue as she kissed her way up the long muscular line of his neck – stopping only to pull back enough to allow him to lift his head and take her lips with his own in a deep, languid kiss.

The expanse of chest beneath her palms was soft and yielding as was his kiss, but his hands held onto her tightly as if she were liable to run away at a moment’s notice. Her name glided across her skin as he rasped it, a brief moment of diversion before he kissed her again with fervour, his tongue gliding across hers to coax an almost pleading moan from her. One clawed finger reached up and hooked the loosely tied cord at the neck of her shirt, unthreading it slowly to let the neck gap and fall down her shoulders to expose the thin fabric of her breast band. The shirt rested near her elbows, almost constricting her movement and she automatically lowered her arms, letting her hands trail down to rest at the waistband of his pants and feeling the muscles of his abdomen twitch at her touch. Another soft yank and the breast band was loosened, the long strip of fabric slowly pulled away from her skin as she shuddered and gasped from the feel of cool air and hot hands on the newly exposed skin.

A blush danced across her chest along with an electric thrill as he pulled back to rake his gaze over her, his hands sliding up so he could trace the pads of his thumbs along the skin underneath her breasts. A shift in his stomach muscles was the extent of warning that she was given before he leaned down to take the peak of her breast into his mouth, the sharp teeth dragging along her skin pleasantly as he growled and sucked while his hands kneaded and stroked wherever they could. She felt heated, her mind beginning to haze under the attention that stoked her lust and her hands worked to undo the leather ties of his pants before she forgot how to use them.   
  
“Ivy.” His voice growled in warning as she worked the ties loose, letting his erection free of the confining garment and into the palms of her hands. He growled a loud moan as she gently stroked him, feeling him twitch in her grasp from the sudden influx of sensation and he lunged forward, his hands on the back of her head and the small of her back as he moved her to lay on the fur beside the fireplace, his broad torso above her as he bit and licked along her collarbone feverishly.

The controlled, smooth movements were becoming rougher and erratic as her smalls were yanked down and off her legs, Bull barely giving time to shift and allow the fabric to come all the way off her legs before returning to his mission of tasting her flesh. He looked up at her for a moment, his movements slowing as he watched her ragged breathing and small moans, she was bare to him, almost vulnerable as she lay naked aside from the fabric of her shirt that constricted her movements. His eyes were dark, pupils blown as his tongue slicked out to lap at her nipple again and a small smile played along his lips. Just as she was about to move, to urge him on further she felt a burst of pleasure as he pressed his finger into her, her sudden moan loud in the quiet room and accompanied by Bull’s satisfied chuckle.

“Bull-” She rasped his name and he kissed her deeply as he explored her sex carefully, his tongue almost mirroring what his fingers were doing. She began to tremble from the sensations, her heart pounding as he continued to kiss her and press a second finger into her slowly, his mouth smothering her cry as she stretched and writhed in his arms.   
  
“You look good like that.” He growled into her ear and bit at her neck as he steadily pumped his fingers.   
  
“Bull, please-” she gasped and could feel his smile against her skin. “I need you.”  
  
“Not yet.” He said bought his fingers to his lips, sucking off her taste and growling. He stood quickly and she whimpered unhappily at the loss but it was short lived as he returned with his pillow and a small jar of oil. “On your stomach.” He ordered and placed the pillow under her hips as she complied, the position elevated her enough to be almost presenting to him and it made her feel exposed all over again as she felt his fingers trace lightly over the curve of her arse and down her sex to rub gently at her clit. She gasped and wriggled at the touch, causing him to chuckle and spank her lightly before reaching for the oil.

He had lost his pants somewhere along the way and his skin was feverish against her legs as he spread them with his knees, scooping up her wrists he pinned them lightly at the small of her back before pressing oil coated fingers back into her slowly. She gasped and writhed and moaned as he explored with his fingers again, stretching her enough to add a third finger as they both moaned, Ivy at the feel and Bull at the sight.  
  
“You look much better like this.” He said darkly and the hand around her wrists flexed in a show of dominance, each of her ragged breaths laced with a quiet moan as he pulled his fingers out and the rigid heat of his cock replaced them.

His slicked hand was resting on the curve of her ass, claws pricking into her skin as he slowly worked to sheathe himself inside of her, a low, continuous growl tumbling from his lips as she shook underneath his grip. She was on the verge of coming, the teasing overstimulation from his careful movement keeping her on edge as he filled her and with a gasped moan from the both of them he was completely in her.   
  
“Dammit-” he moaned as if it were through gritted teeth, “you’re tight.” He drew out slowly before pushing back in just as slowly and Ivy whimpered and writhed, she needed him to _move_.  
  
“Bull,” she gasped, “please fuck me.” His growl was response enough as he snapped his hips harder and she asked him again, her words devolving into breathy gasps as he reluctantly let go of that iron control and gave in to her begging. Her cries became almost loud enough to be heard in the surrounding rooms as he leaned over her, his hand shifting from her arse to her hair to pull her curls gently, making her raise her head so he could whisper in her ear.   
  
“That’s it,” he encouraged her as his hips thrusted relentlessly, “come for me.” She tensed and shook as her orgasm finally spilled over, the pleasure rolling through her and out of her throat in ragged moans. Bull was spurred on to follow her moments later, pulling out to release along her back with a groan.

He was panting, propped up above her as he kissed her shoulder and shifted to find a cloth. A minute later he returned to clean her skin of his mess while she basked in the afterglow. He allowed her the time it took to carefully wipe her skin down before he scooped her from the floor and carried her over to the bed, she giggled into the crook of his neck as he lowered her again, grabbing the furs and throwing it over the both of them, and settling with a sigh.

They awoke just before dawn and made each minute count, coaxing each other to orgasm with hands and mouths and too quickly Ivy had to report to the stables and leave on her mission.  
  
“Stay safe.” Iron Bull said to her as she led her mare to the gates. “Don’t let anyone get the drop on you.”  
  
“I won’t,” Ivy said as his hand reached up to cup her jaw, “I’ll play it safe, I promise.”  
  
“See you in a month.” He said before kissing her gently and stepping back to let her mount her horse. “One month, not two. Don’t get distracted.” Ivy laughed and blew him a kiss before urging her mare into a trot and set out into the ice and snow.

 

It was nice to get out of the snow, even if the southern hinterlands were still a bit cold and wet, and Ivy was able to travel fast and in relative safety due to the Inquisition presence there. It seemed that Alistair had also increased the amount of troops in the regional areas as well – probably to the ire of the Arls.

When the land began to slope down steadily and the rain fell heavier Ivy knew she was getting close and she knew she had made it once the smell of a bog hit her, the air thick with moisture and the scent of peat and rotting earth. The rocky road gave way to an unkempt cobblestone path which was mostly covered in black soil, leading to the small break in a hill which was the main way into the Fallow Mire. There were few buildings along the narrow road and she couldn’t even deviate from it without risking her horse in the marsh and she wasn’t going to do that.

Half a day passed in the marsh when she heard the rasp of a gurgling breath that sent a shiver down her spine, she turned slowly, looking over her right shoulder to see a human form pulling itself up and out of the muddy water. Its skin was thick with mud but gaunt underneath it, hair sticking up in patches and its clothes haggard and torn. It looked to her with one lifeless eye and Ivy gripped the hilt of her sword tightly, leaving her staff secured to her back as it seemed to look her over, a pliant moan escaping in a questioning lilt. Her mare shifted suddenly and the creature shifted its focus from human to horse in a snap, surging forward with a snarl towards the both of them. Ivy drew her sword and brought the blade down on its neck in one swing, the rotting flesh and bone giving way easily compared to a living opponent. Ivy groaned in disgust as the smell of rot hit her nose and she held up her blade to see the black-brown sludge that was dripping down it thickly.  
  
“Zombies.” She said quietly to herself. “Fucking zombies, you have to be kidding me.” A twinge of a memory sparked in her mind and she moved quickly to get back on her horse, she was going to back to the border of the mire, going any further would likely result in a swarm of undead she wouldn’t be able to fight out of.

She pitched her tent near an abandoned hut by the entrance of the mire, she hadn’t seen any Templars in the area – only signs of Avvar tribesmen - and should be able to catch the Inquisition soldiers before they go into the swamp. It was a couple of days before they arrived and Ivy had managed to sleep a grand total of three hours in which she was awoken by shuffling and the groaning of undead, it was only one but it was enough to put her on edge until reinforcements arrived.

When the soldiers did arrive their Captain looked at Ivy like she had been bathing exclusively in the mire for a week and she might as well have been for how she felt.  
  
“Captain Volkev?” The young man gave her a salute and she returned the gesture half-heartedly, he was new by the looks of it. “Inquisitor Adaar sent us to secure the area into the mire.”  
  
“Inquisitor now is she?” Ivy said tiredly and the new Captain gave her a weary look at her lack of formality, he was clearly military through and through. “About damn time.”  
  
“Your report Captain?” He insisted and Ivy stared him down for a moment.  
  
“One suitable road through the mire, no human population as far as I can see, seems a plague went through here some time ago. Lots of undead though, they swarm if you near the water so unless you’re keen for some fighting I wouldn’t try to go near the little islands.” She said flatly and made a note of the soldiers who balked at the mention of undead, the leader wasn’t among them. “I believe there is a fortress further in, some tribesmen have taken up residence, but I couldn’t get close enough to confirm.”  
  
“We should try to secure the fortress if it is not occupied.” He said almost to himself.  
  
“I wouldn’t suggest that, Captain.” Ivy warned and the man looked her over with disdain. “Your job is to secure the immediate area, not risk the lives of your men in a glory mission. We have few enough soldiers as it is.”  
  
“I will determine what my mission is, Captain.” He said dangerously to her as he sneered. “Your failures will not have an impact on my squad’s success.”  
  
“Captain Bryant,” one of the soldiers spoke up warily, “I’ve served with Captain Volkev since Haven, it would be wise to listen to her advice.”  
  
“Scouts rarely know how to engage and win on the field.” Bryant said flatly. “If you have a message you need to send ahead of your return to Skyhold we have a raven at your disposal. If not then we will part ways.” Ivy walked to pull out a piece of parchment and scribbled on it quickly, rolling it so it could be tied onto the raven easily.   
  
“If you’re determined to be an idiot, just don’t get caught by the Avvar.” Ivy said although it was like talking to a wall. She attached the parchment onto the raven and let it loose, watching it fly up and head back towards Skyhold.

Ivy watched the squad leave to secure the area closer to the centre of the mire and she began to pack before the guilt settled in her stomach and she stopped herself. She wasn’t going to join them and get captured or even killed in the mire but she couldn’t just leave them either. With a sigh she took a drink from her waterskin which was running dangerously low and looked around the area, it was good enough for the first camp to be established and safe enough to leave her horse while she continued on foot, it would be easier to get through the marsh without rousing the undead if she were without a horse.

She dragged over a log and lay it beside the unused road, it would be easily spotted and look out of place for when reinforcements arrived. Using her dagger she carved the Inquisition symbol into the wood and picked up some black soil and pushed it into the white wood to make the symbol stand out. If Harding didn’t see it upon arrival then at least she would see Ivy’s tent and horse. Ivy slung her satchel over her shoulders and shifted her staff so it wouldn’t catch on the strap of the bag if she needed it in a hurry and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to go back into the mire, she had to, but Maker damn it she _really_ didn’t want to.

Captain Bryant did exactly what he wanted to and walked straight into an Avvar ambush. Ivy examined the site of the skirmish and thankfully found no bodies of the soldiers, although a few Avaar corpses were dotted around the area, and a lot of footprints in the mud. They were taken alive and dragged away. She spent her time then scouting out the road further than she did before, she wouldn’t be able to get them out of a fortress but she would at least be able to give the rescuers the best possible approach.

When Harding arrived weeks later Ivy was more than happy to see her, the dwarf woman awkward in Ivy’s muddy hug before she pushed the taller woman off with a happily flustered smile.   
  
“Good to see you alive, Captain.” Harding said as she handed Ivy a waterskin. “The Commander would like to personally scold you upon your return.”  
  
“I’m sure he would.” Ivy said as she sat down by their campfire, it was the first time she had been back to the campsite since leaving to follow Bryant and she was exhausted and cold to the bone.   
  
“You’re nearly a month over your check in time, never seen the Commander in such a state before. The troops are paying for his temper and will probably want to lynch you when you get back.” Harding looked at Ivy curiously as a scout pushed a bowl of steaming stew into her hands with a smile, Ivy thanked the man before lifting the bowl to her lips and humming appreciatively. Her rations had been low for weeks and the Mire gave little in the way of hunting or foraging, Cullen’s usual worry of Ivy starving had been rapidly approaching justification.   
  
“Had Bryant listened to reason then I would have returned by now.” Ivy said in annoyance. “What’s that guy’s problem anyway?” Harding shrugged.  
  
“He’s an asshole, gave a few of my scouts a good dressing down for no reason in Skyhold. I think he has a grudge against us. In any case the Inquisitor should arrive in a couple of days so are you going to return or stay?” Harding asked as the other scouts set up the camp around them.  
  
“I’ll stay,” Ivy said, “I’ve memorised the best path through to the fortress, when she arrives I’ll lead her through.”  
  
“Probably for the best, the Commander mentioned something about undead in your message?”  
  
“They’re everywhere, but swarm when you go to the water. I think I’ll finally be able to sleep with you guys here to keep watch.” Ivy huffed a smile as it began to rain softly again.  
  
“I didn’t want to mention it, but you look like shit.” Harding said in apology and Ivy just laughed and nodded her head. “Get some sleep, once you’re awake we’ll have the bathing tent up and you can try to shake that smell.”  
  
“Harding, you say the nicest things.” Ivy said with a yawn before she stumbled to the far side of the camp where her horse and tent waited patiently.  
  


Ivy didn’t wait around for the Inquisitor and her party, instead she watched the roads and noted the movements of the Avvar, they were patrolling more along the road to the fortress, almost expecting conflict from more than the undead. Ivy didn’t doubt that they knew of the growing Inquisition presence, but she wasn’t sure of why they hadn’t tried to take more soldiers yet. She shifted uncomfortably on the branch she was perched in and let her legs dangle down in the air, the large tree she climbed gave a great view of the islands and the smaller paths that winded away from the road and it was a good opportunity to take a moment and survey the area without worrying about any undead shuffling up behind her.

A crack echoed from the east and she looked up to see a faint green light sparkling further up the road near some abandoned buildings - a rift had opened up. Ivy huffed and packed away her book, wiping the charcoal from her fingertips and onto the bark of the tree, she should try to get a closer look and pinpoint the exact area before the Inquisitor arrives. Lowering herself carefully she dropped down onto the dirt without much sound, certainly not enough to get the attention of the zombies, and started along the road towards the light.

A crumbling stone fence as high as her waist provided cover as she peered over the top at the small open road area which had the rift in the centre of it. It looked like the centre of a mini village, almost where a farmer would have set up a stall to sell to people passing through but it had been long abandoned and only grew weeds now.   
  
“The Lady in the Sky is angry.” Ivy’s heart just about stopped in fright at the voice as she twirled around to see the tall, pale man standing in the middle of the road to her left. He was Avvar, his maul resting easily on his wide shoulders and fur clothing covering him as he shifted and looked Ivy over with a calm expression. “Do not fret, I’ll not hurt you.” He stated and looked back to the rift, examining it with thoughtful and worried eyes.  
  
“Then you are not like the other Avvar.” Ivy said carefully and he shook his head.  
  
“I heal and watch the Signs, I’m not interested in their bid for glory.” He knelt down and touched the ground tentatively with his fingertips, humming and rubbing the dirt between his fingers.  
  
“But you tend to them? Have you seen the Inquisition soldiers by chance?” Ivy asked cautiously as he turned his focus to her. “Are they alive?”   
  
“They were when I saw them a few days back. Injured, but alive. The Chieftain’s son would not risk killing them without facing your Herald first.”  
  
“Is that all he wants?” She asked a bit confused. “To fight the Inquisitor?”  
  
“Yes.” He said flatly before turning to the rift. “The light is shifting from within.”  
  
“It’s becoming active, Demons will appear soon.” She sighed and pulled her staff free from its holster on her back. “We will not be able to close it, only the Herald can.”  
  
“I would like to see that.” he replied in disbelief. “I will stay and keep the demons busy.”  
  
“On your own?” Ivy asked surprised. “I can’t let you do that.”   
  
“Are you going to stop me?” the threat was clear in the tone of his voice and Ivy sighed and shook her head.  
  
“No. But I’d not live with myself if I left you here alone.” Ivy twirled the staff in her hand and automatically shifted into a defensive stance as the rift became more active, crackling and sending out sparks of green like tiny meteors.  
  
“Then let the Lady in the Sky grace us both.” He said with finality as demons began to claw out of the ground.

 

Sweat was trickling down her spine and collecting on her brow as she spun to land a blow to the demon that dragged itself towards her, the wood of her staff trembling with the blow in her hands as the Avvar healer swung his massive maul to crush the demon from its opposite side. Ethereal bones crunched under the blow before it screeched and hissed in pain to become a puddle of black goo on the ground and the rift was silent again.

Three waves of demons had come through the glowing rift, nearly an hour wait between each wave meant that the two of them could hold the demons off and rest before beginning again. Ivy itched at the bandage on her head, she had been clawed by a rage demon during the last of the second wave, its burning talons scratching over her left eyebrow and narrowly missing her eye to score her cheek. The wound cauterized almost instantly and as soon as they had the chance her new Avvar friend smeared an antiseptic over it and bandaged her head, the wrappings coming over her left eye, to prevent further damage or debris getting into the wound. It affected her depth perception and peripheral vision terribly.  
  
“How the hell does Bull go around with one eye?” She growled to herself in frustration, partially from being at a disadvantage and partially sulking because a demon managed to land a blow on her.  
  
“I imagine this _Bull_ is quite used to it,” the Avvar said, “It will take time to adjust to, but not too long.” The rift flickered again and the two of them steeled themselves, the waves were coming quicker now and as the demons crawled up out of the ground the two of them let out a war cray before charging into the fray again.

The staff was a flurry of wood as Ivy threw her all into the fight, spinning and striking at the demons as they hissed and crawled towards them. The heavy thud of the Avvar’s maul echoed with the shattering sound of stone as another wave of demons erupted from the ground. Just before Ivy struck one to her right the demon froze, ice covering it completely and when her staff connected to it with force the ice shattered into black shards. Ivy glanced up to see Vivienne casting besides Adaar, pulling half of the demons attention away from the Avvar and scout as Blackwall and Bull charged into the thick of demons. A crossbow bolt whizzed past Ivy and she followed it and saw it bury itself into the eye of a demon, Varric scolding her over the sound of battle.  
  
“ _Pay attention!”_ He yelled as Ivy spun to hit another demon, making it fall before the Avvar maul crushed down on its head. The rift changed form and Adaar stepped forward and held her hand out, the green of her anchor melding with the green of the rift and with a snap of her arm the rift closed, the area darkening now that the unnatural light had vanished.  
  
“You really can close them.” The Avvar said and Blackwall took a threatening step forward.  
  
“He’s friendly!” Ivy said quickly, stepping between the group and the Avvar, Blackwall hesitated for a moment before sheathing his weapon and nodding once, trusting Ivy.   
  
“Captain,” the Inquisitor said flatly, “are you unharmed?”  
  
“Yes, Inquisitor.” Ivy said and secured her staff to her back again, holding back a wince as her muscled screamed in discomfort. “Only scratches.” Adaar nodded and the bulk of them wandered over to the Avvar with their weapons sheathed and introduced themselves, Ivy had a moment of guilt when she realised she hadn’t even asked his name. Bull walked over to where she stood, arms crossed over her chest, and looked her over - his eye hovering on the bandages that were dotted with blood.  
  
“We agreed on one month,” Bull said quietly, “not two.”  
  
“See, now I don’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort.” Ivy said teasingly and Bull let out a relieved huff, smiling as he shook his head and sheathed his greatsword.  
  
“Your eye-”  
  
“Is fine.” Ivy interrupted before he could finish. Bull glanced over to the group for a moment before stepping in and kissing her gently, his hand warm against her jaw and she uncrossed her arms to lay a hand on his chest.   
  
“I should know not to worry about you.” He said with a smile that brought her own to grace her lips.  
  
“I’m glad that you do.” She barely whispered before a blush heated her ears, she wanted to fall into his arms, to sink into his warm strength after spending the last couple of months without it and alone.  Bull stepped back before the group turned their attention back to them, it was a reluctant step, but Ivy still felt slightly hurt that he didn’t want anyone to see them touching.  
  
“You can return to the camp, Captain.” Adaar said. “Once rested I suggest you return to Skyhold.”  
  
“I can show you to the fortress, Inquisitor. I have scouted the best route to take – quick and few tribesmen to hinder you.” Ivy stood to attention and spoke firmly, she had just waited for weeks in this fucking swamp and she was going to see it through.  
  
“You look dead on your feet.” Varric said cautiously, likely reading her body language and trying to avoid upsetting her. “This isn’t our first outing, we can handle ourselves.”  
  
“I have no doubt of it.” Ivy said flatly. “But what is the point of gathering this information if you ignore it?”   
  
“Your orders are to return immediately.” Adaar said with a hint of anger. “The Commander was very clear on that." Ivy tried to quash the rage that swelled in her chest. A month. A _month_ she spent scouting out this fetid sinkhole and she was being sent home like a child. A month of no sleep and little food, a month of walking through this real-life horror movie and for nothing. She could feel her jaw clenching as she ground her teeth to prevent herself from telling them all to shove their orders.  
  
“With respect-” Ivy began, her voice well controlled despite the anger she felt.  
  
“ _Respect?”_ Adaar yelled. “Your mission was to report the lay of the land _only._ Instead, you remained a month past your check in, determined where to set up the base camp, befriended possible enemy combatants and engaged a rift. If anything you are spitting in the face of your superior officers.” Adaar huffed angrily and Ivy glanced to the nearby murky water nervously, hoping the movement she saw was just a trick of her eyes. “Rutherford only ever sings your praises, Maker knows why, and your actions here have done nothing but put strain on him.”  
  
“You need to lower your voice.” Ivy hissed at her suddenly and the watching companions raised their eyebrows in surprise at Ivy’s disrespectful demand.   
  
“ _Captain Volkev._ ” Addar said angrily in defiance of her and Ivy’s ears picked up a faint groaning sound followed by dripping water. Adaar was still yelling at her but Ivy’s mind was far away, honing in on the sound of shuffling getting closer to them. Her hand on the hilt of her short sword squeezed once before she drew it quickly, stepping to her left and arcing her sword upwards to score across the stomach of an undead woman, rotting blood spattered across the ground as the festering internal organs sloshed out, the zombie’s cry of surprised barely audible as Ivy hacked at its neck relentlessly until the head was barely connected by tissue and the body lifeless on the ground.

Ivy tried to quiet her breathing and listen for any more approaching, the silence around her comforting and after a few seconds she turned to the group who were varying degrees of concerned.  
  
“I didn’t even see it coming close.” Blackwall said quietly and Ivy flicked her sword a few times trying to dislodge a chunk of flesh from her blade.  
  
“You won’t.” She said bitterly before wiping the blade on a small patch of grass. “At night it’s nearly impossible to see them, damned silent too. Any sound, vibration or splashing will attract them and the mire is fucking full of them. We were lucky only one was nearby, I was flanked by five a couple of weeks ago.”  
  
“They seem different to _normal_ undead.” Vivienne said as she shifted the corpse with her staff.  
  
“A plague.” Ivy replied. “I doubt it was natural either.”  
  
“How do you know?” Adaar asked in annoyance, but her voiced was quiet again.  
  
“Because I’ve spent a month in this hell-hole finding out as much as I possibly could about it,” Ivy said harshly as a headache starting between her eyes, “so that when reinforcements came to rescue that arrogant fuck Bryant they wouldn’t be going in blind _as is my duty._ ” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small book, no bigger than her hand, which was full with notes and loose pieces of paper. She slapped it onto the chest of the nearest person, who just happened to be Bull, and waited for him to take it. He did, his large hand coming over hers and giving it a small squeeze as she slipped it out from under his palm. Ivy didn’t look at him, didn’t want to and was too angry.  
  
“I will return to Skyhold immediately, _Inquisitor._ ” Ivy said flatly before making her way back to the camp, she had no intention of stopping there, she would pull her tent down and leave in the middle of the night.  
  


Harding hovered near Ivy watching her with worried eyes as she packed everything onto her mare.  
  
“I don’t like you leaving while it’s dark.” Harding said flatly. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”  
  
“Moon is full, it’s easy to see.” Ivy said and hoisted the last pack onto the horse. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
“You haven’t slept for a while and you’re injured – even if it’s not much.” Harding sighed heavily. “If you leave like this you’re going to stew on whatever happened the whole way back and regret it.”  
  
“I got orders to leave, so I’m leaving. Despite popular opinion I follow orders.” Ivy said and Harding offered her a mug of warm mead which Ivy took with a half smile.  
  
“I know you do, even if they’re your own skewered version of orders.” Harding said and raised her mug in cheers which Ivy reciprocated and drank her mead in one delicious go. “I know a lot about you.” Harding said as she swirled the mead in her mug and watched it. “Like how you always drink the first drink in one go.” Ivy paused and looked up at Harding who gave her an apologetic half smile.  
  
“Lace.” Ivy said cautiously, she only ever used Harding’s first name when she was being serious. “What did you do?”  
  
“You’re too stubborn to listen to me.” Harding said and Ivy blinked slowly, the edges of her vision getting blurry. “But I’m not about to let you ride off into the darkness exhausted and half starved.”  
  
“You drugged me.” Ivy said flatly and shook her head, whatever it was it was working fast.  
  
“I really wished you hadn’t packed you tent up so quickly.” Harding sighed as Ivy slumped to her knees with a curse. “Now I have to figure out where to put you.” Ivy laughed, lazily as if she were drunk.  
  
“Harding,” She smiled and the bandages tugged at her skin, “I’m so proud of you.” Harding let out a small laugh before laying Ivy down carefully, the drugs working wonders as Ivy passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for keeping with me so far on this! We're officially in Skyhold and it's going to get... interesting from here.   
> <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t touch me Hissrad.” She spat, her angry mind slipping his old name out of her mouth, he raised his eyebrows and held his hands up as if to show he wasn’t armed and stepped back.

The sound of insects was loud and Ivy sighed before opening her eyes to the dawn light. She glanced around, making out the shapes of the base camp before her vision cleared and she could hear someone speaking – or ranting – loudly. She turned her head to see Harding standing stiffly to attention, her scouts looking on without looking directly at her and Adaar pacing and gesturing sharply while her companions rested around the camp.  
  
“-the complete lack of regard for others, the arrogance that you would determine it necessary to take those steps-” Adaar continued her lecture when Ivy felt a hand on her shoulder, she rolled her head to see the scout from earlier, the one who handed her food – what the hell was his name? – sitting cross legged beside her while he watched on warily.  
  
“Why is Harding being raked over the coals?” Ivy asked in a whisper.  
  
“Drugging a superior officer.” The scout replied with a hint of a smile. “Inquisitor came back and wasn’t happy that you were still here, Harding explained the situation and, well, this has been going on for a few minutes now.” Ivy swore and scrubbed at her face, sitting up slowly and looking to Harding. The Inquisitor stopped ranting and looked to Ivy, patiently waiting while she stood and collected herself.  
  
“Captain.” Adaar said across the camp and Ivy felt most eyes on her. “You are within your rights to press charges.” Ivy walked stiffly towards them, her muscles sore from the fighting and sleeping on the ground.  
  
“Why would I do that?” Ivy asked as she approached, holding out her hand for Harding to shake. She did so reluctantly, looking between Ivy and Adaar nervously as Ivy shook her hand and clapped her on the shoulder. “Thanks Harding,” Ivy said with a smile, “you made the right choice.” Harding quickly tried to hide her smile, ducking her head down while Adaar glared at the both of them.

The sound of a horse dragged Ivy’s attention to her mare, saddled and ready to go and lead by a scout.  
  
“She’s loaded up Captain,” the scout said with a smile and Ivy patted the mare’s nose getting an affectionate nudge in return, “we figured you’d want to head out as soon as you awoke so I put some fruit in the saddlebag for your breakfast. About a day’s travel north there is a clean lake to replenish water and try to get the smell of the swamp off.”  
  
“I know the one, thank you.” Ivy said before reaching up to unfurl the bandage around her head, the wound had dried to the bandage in part and she hissed as she pulled it off, she rolled it up and popped it in the saddlebag – it would be cleaned, sterilised and reused later.

Ivy glanced around the campsite before she put her foot in the stirrup and mounted her horse, settling herself before pulling up the hood to cover her hair and the scarf-like cloth to cover her mouth and nose. Bull walked up to pass her staff to her, giving a tight smile before stepping away.  
  
“Ride safe.” He spoke quietly so he would only be overheard by the closest scout. “I’ll see you soon.” Ivy nodded to him and guided her horse out of the camp, kicking her into a gallop once past the borders and heading back to Skyhold.  
  


The snow was not welcome in Ivy’s mind, the cold air still freezing her lungs with each breath despite the scarf that covered her face and the glare of the light blinding her as she approached Skyhold. Inside the fortress wasn’t as bad but it was still cold, still icy and wet in patches despite the fires that burned and the efforts of the mages.

Ivy gave her mare to the stable boy and walked towards the kitchens, up the stone steps and past the first room until she found the pantry. The kitchenhand had already placed a basket by the door on a shelf, one that Ivy knew was hers to use when she came to steal food, it was empty since she had been away for so long – the maids taking to filling the basket for her so she didn’t steal anything they needed – and so Ivy grabbed some fruit and a chunk of bread and placed it all in the basket to carry across the battlements.

It was mid-morning and Ivy yawned widely, camping alone in the cold snow on her own always put her on edge so she never really slept, wolves and bears a real danger in the snowy mountains. She approached Cullen’s office and heard him yelling, a messenger leaving the office quickly and slamming the door behind him with a glower before looking to Ivy.  
  
“Thank the Maker you’re back.” The messenger said as she brushed past. “Maybe now he won’t be such an asshole.” Ivy watched her stride past before opening the door hesitantly, peering in to see Cullen leaning over his desk with his back to her, examining a map on his table. She stepped in quietly and shut the door behind her, the breeze pushing it to close a little louder than expected.   
  
“Maker’s sake,” Cullen growled without looking at her, “I told you I’m not to be disturbed.”   
  
“I’ll come back tomorrow then shall I?” Ivy asked lightly and he turned quickly, a mixture of relief and annoyance dancing through his expression.  
  
“About time you showed up.” He said as Ivy walked towards him, the basket tucked into her side. “I send you on a recon mission and what do you do?”  
  
“Blatantly defy orders.” Ivy suggested and he glared at her, she stopped in front of him and they met each others gaze for a moment before he surged forward and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, the basket slipping from her loose hold and falling to the floor, fruit and bread rolling around on the stonework. She brought her arms up to touch at his waist, the armour cold as he pressed her to it, his hands were on her spine, face buried in her hair near her neck. He seemed thinner somehow despite the armour and Ivy’s fingers found their way into his curls, his breathing uneven as she frowned at his reaction and state.  
  
“I thought-” He stopped mid-sentence and his fingers tensed where they rested on her back, Ivy felt a pang of guilt before shushing him.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I should have let you know I was going to stay longer. Things just got fucked up in that swamp.”  
  
“Your hair smells like mud.” He said as if he was pouting and they both chuckled quietly. They pulled back and he met her eyes again, frowning before he touched at the scratches along her face, now well and truly healing while still looking a bit badass in her opinion. Ivy took the chance to examine his face closely, it was gaunt and pale and sent a spark of worry through her.  
  
“Are you ill?” she asked him and he shook his head, his half smile making Ivy suspicious. “Is it the Lyrium?” She asked flatly and he stared at her for a moment, sighing and looking down before looking up at her again with another fake half smile.  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said softly and she nodded once, she didn’t want to push him.   
  
“Whenever you’re ready.” She stepped in and hugged him again, letting her cheek rest on his shoulder and ruffling the fur of his mantle with her breath.  
  
“Maker.” He said sarcastically. “Can’t hide anything from a seer.”  
  
“I didn’t have a vision,” she half scolded him, “I just _know_ you.” They remained like that for a minute longer, Ivy resting comfortably on Cullen’s shoulder and his hands resting on her back, fingers twirling idly in her hair. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him with a grin, his lazy smile down at her letting some of the worry in her chest loosen.  
  
“How is the Inquisitor’s party?” He asked and Ivy gave a shrug.  
  
“They arrived safely in the Mire, I was sent away shortly after.” Ivy tried to hide the annoyance in her voice as best as she could. Cullen paused and she could almost _feel_ him thinking.  
  
“How was Iron Bull?” He asked, trying to sound casual.  
  
“He was-” Ivy’s sentence trailed off as she thought, he was… quiet? Reserved? “Busy. Being bodyguard to Adaar takes up a lot of time.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Why do you ask?” She questioned him with a hint of suspicion and he flashed her a smile.  
  
“Just curious. He was keen to get to the Mire once he found out you had been delayed but we had other business to attend to.” Cullen said as he leaned against his desk, causing Ivy to grumble since she was comfortable. “He was very… vocal about the delay.”  
  
“That’s not like him.” Ivy frowned and he nodded in agreement. “Was there anything else happening?”   
  
“Yes, we’ve received a request to host the Qunari emissary.” Cullen said casually as if she wasn’t clinging onto him like a sloth. “They’re suggesting an alliance.”  
  
“They could be a powerful ally.” Ivy said with a sigh. “ _If_ you adhere with everything they decree.”  
  
“You think it’s a bad idea?” He asked.  
  
“I think we could do it better without them.” Ivy said flatly. “But I’m biased and it’s not up to me. What does Adaar say?”  
  
“She’s quiet on the matter, wants to meet the emissary first. They will be here in a month and I don’t know how long they’ll be staying.” Cullen paused and he sighed, the next sentence said carefully and quietly. “Do you think we should be cautious and send you to visit Alistair for a while?”  
  
“It’s been years and I doubt I’d know this emissary.” Ivy bit her lip in thought and straightened up, pulling away from him. “I think it would be harder to explain to Adaar why you’re sending me to Ferelden than to simply hide me among the soldiers here.”   
  
“Alright.” Cullen said quietly, bending to pick up an apple and wipe it on his mantle to clean it of dust and dirt. “I’ll put you on sentry duty for a while but you can take a few days rest before then. Two months in a swamp deserves some down time.” Ivy smiled at that, she planned on spending her days off drinking and bathing.  
  


The time off didn’t last long enough, it never does, but in honesty Ivy was a little bored without Varric or Bull to harass and Cullen was far too busy without the Inquisitor taking some of the workload to keep Ivy company.  Training continued even though she wasn’t on duty, the rookies were always fun to train and Ivy felt sympathy for them since they reminded her of herself a few years ago and also because Cassandra was a frightening instructor.

The Chargers managed to find her on one day and try to drink her under the table, she awoke the next afternoon feeling like her stomach was on fire and her head in a vice packed full of interesting pieces of information about Krem that she didn’t need to know after she taught him the _Never have I ever_ drinking game. Armed with her new knowledge she intended to buy a stuffed nug and leave it in places he would find.

After that things returned to normal, Ivy was on sentry duty most of the time but it was split between that and running messages for Cullen. Ivy had taken to climbing the walls and jumping across the battlements to keep her stamina up and frighten the jimmies out of the poor people who got in her way, although she made the mistake of frightening Sera once and then spent a week taking fake messages to grumpy nobles.

Eventually, near three weeks later, she was posted to sentry duty in the dungeons. The thing about the dungeons, aside from being a terribly depressing place, was that it was freezing. The floor was completely gone at the rear of it having collapsed into the valley far below and the air blew in mercilessly making it impossible to heat. Ivy didn’t have sympathy for the prisoners, the Inquisition was pretty lenient when it came to most things so if you landed on the bad side of it then you probably deserved to be in a freezing dungeon that was falling out from beneath you, but she did have sympathy for the guards posted there. And in that moment he had sympathy for herself.  
  
“It’s only for a couple of days.” Cullen scolded her as she leaned her head on his desk and pouted at him, she had made a point to get his attention by lying across the map he was trying to study. “There isn’t even any prisoners at the moment.”  
  
“Can’t you send me somewhere warm and dry for once?” She whined and Cullen held back a chuckle. “I think I need to go scout out these Antivan taverns I keep hearing about.”  
  
“Antiva already said if I sent you there they’d send you back under armed escort, if not in pieces.” Cullen shot her a sarcastic smile before dismissing her with a head gesture towards the door.

The dungeons had one post standing near a pillar and overlooking six cells, three to the left and three to the right. Her sentry duty partner for the night was Jula, a woman who was nearing forty and had a scowl that could curdle milk at fifty paces, she was posted by the door while Ivy was wasting away by the pillar. There were no prisoners that day and Ivy tried to think back and remember if there had been any in the dungeons before but none came to mind so she stood and daydreamed and shuffled and sighed until her five hour shift was over and a man came to replace her.

The next day the Inquisitor and her party arrived back at Skyhold and people had that excited buzz about them that occurred whenever Adaar returned. Everything got cleaned quickly and the nobles who hovered in the throne room began to gossip and preen themselves for the arrival of the Herald. Ivy wasn’t excited though, she was on sentry duty in the dungeons.  
  
“Just one prisoner.” A guard said to her as she saluted him to relieve him of the immensely boring task. "Doesn't talk, hasn’t moved.” Ivy nodded to him in confirmation and took his spot by the pillar, feeling the gaze of the prisoner on her. The prisoner didn’t speak to her and she didn’t look at him, she was supposed to look forward at all times and not engage with the criminals and that suited her just fine.

A couple of hours into the shift Jula frowned and sighed in irritation.  
  
“I need to piss.” She grumbled and Ivy shrugged in reply.  
  
“Just go.” Ivy said and Jula looked to the prisoner uncertainly before nodding and moving quickly out of the door and leaving Ivy alone in the dungeon. Ivy heard the heavy sigh of the prisoner and ignored it, he still wasn’t moving and she wasn’t interested in why he sighed, she was only hoping Jula got back before a commanding officer checked in on them and busted them.  
  
“Never thought I’d see ye on that side of the bars girlie.” The prisoner rumbled and Ivy couldn’t help but glace towards him, he was an elf with brown hair and he had a bitter smile on his face. “I don’t normally believe in fate, but when the Maker slaps my ass like this I can’t help but wonder if it’s serendipity.” He dramatically said the last word, holding his palm up to the sky as if he was asking for alms from the gods.  
  
“Shut up.” Ivy said automatically and stared in front of her.  
  
“Ye don’t remember me do ye?” He asked and huffed a laugh.   
  
“I said-” Ivy turned to rap the bars with her sword but stopped before she drew it the elf triggered a memory in her and she stepped closer, looking down at him with a blank face. His lean body was covered in thin leather armour, if you could call it that since it was made for movement rather than protection, and he sported quite a few bruises, one very large and a sickly yellow-brown on the corner of his mouth and spreading across his cheek.  
  
“Ah,” he said smugly, “she’s remembering.”  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
“I’m hurt ye don’t remember our time together.” He drawled. “After all the trouble I went through to free ye from the Qunari dungeons.”  
  
“Tomen.” Ivy said with a bitter taste in her mouth and he smiled with a happy sigh, closing his eyes as if her recognition was sweet and intoxicating. “What have you done now?”  
  
“Oh, little things here and there.” He avoided the question. “My story is boring, but I am _very_ curious as to how a prisoner of the Qun ended up as an Inquisition soldier.”  
  
“Don’t be.” Ivy said flatly before stepping back to her post. “My story is boring as well.” She paused for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her. “I thought no dungeon could hold you.”  
  
“Ironic isn’t it?” He smiled bitterly. “A dungeon that is falling apart is harder to escape than any other I’ve seen. Yah mages have reinforced it quite well, but if I happened to know someone who owed me a favour, someone who I had released in the past-”  
  
“What a stroke of luck that would be.” She cut him off flatly. “A pity there is no one like that here.” She returned her gaze to the door and soon Jula walked back in silence falling over the dungeon again until she was relieved from duty.  
  


In Skyhold the baths were crammed into a long, large hallway in a wing of the fortress that had yet to be repaired. The rooms that lead off the area were full of junk or collapsed and so it was deemed appropriate to put the wooden tubs in there for communal use. Usually Ivy would be happy with the basin in her room but every now and then she really needed a soak in hot water to ease her nerves. Palming a coin to the attendant as she greeted her meant that she would have time to herself – well as much to herself as an open room full of naked people could allow – and she wouldn’t be ushered on after fifteen minutes. This steaming hallway was where she found herself now, she wound her way here after leaving most of her armour and weapons behind in her room and collecting some coins from her stash, tipping the attendant well meant that she would give her access to the partitioned baths and leave her alone until she re-emerged – if she wanted to she could have stayed there for a week and the attendant wouldn’t care.

She stripped behind the screen and folded her clothes onto a nearby stool, the dragon tooth necklace coming loose as she pulled her shirt off and falling to the floor with a clacking sound, she swore under her breath and picked it up, looping it over her head for the moment as she stepped into the giant wooden and circular tub carefully. She sighed and submerged herself completely, getting her hair wet and it was heavy when she surfaced again, she hadn’t cut it since she arrived in Thedas and when the curls were weighed down by water they almost reached her waist, she was going to have to cut it soon.

When she sat up properly her stomach clenched in anxiety and she pulled her knees up to rest her elbows on them, covering her head with her arms and she let out a shaky breath into the hollow her body and legs created. Her hands were trembling, seeing Tomen again brought up a lot of memories and attached to those memories were feelings that she had pushed deep, deep down inside of herself, feelings that now treacherously clawed and gnawed their way back to the surface to escape her throat in a quiet sob.  
  
“Ivy?” She peered up through her arms and saw the stripy pattern of Bull’s pants beside the tub, she uncurled herself and tucked her hair back, taking the chance to wipe at her face also before she smiled tightly up at him. He wasn’t fooled, but he at least had the decency to pretend to be.  
  
“She finally set you free?” Ivy croaked before clearing her throat and he smiled and nodded, crouching down by the edge of the bath to run his hand along her arm.  
  
“Imagine my delight when I heard you had gone to the baths.” He said with a half-smile and leaned forward to kiss her shoulder gently, Ivy huffed a laughed held her hand above the water in invitation to which Bull smirked, standing up and shedding his clothes efficiently before stepping in to join her.  
  


They ended up with Bull on the edge and Ivy resting comfortably on his chest, her back along his stomach and hips between his legs, a washcloth controlled by Bull making its way languidly along her skin as she fought against her eyelids fluttering shut. Bull huffed an uncomfortable sigh and reached between them causing Ivy to arch her back in response, he pulled out a shiny object from between them that was attached to a leather cord. The tooth had managed to spin on the necklace and fall behind Ivy to hang down her back – probably from when she went underwater. Bull dropped it like he had been burned and picked up the washcloth again, this time the soft strokes were a little harder.  
  
“Want to tell me why you were upset?” He asked quietly and she shook her head. “Might help if you opened up a little.”  
  
“Not on this.” She sighed, thinking about what might happen if Bull knew Tomen was in the dungeons, Ivy didn’t want Bull to risk himself in any foolish endeavour to prevent the elf from speaking and she wasn’t even sure if Tomen knew she was the Seer – he had disappeared long before then. Ivy had a feeling that in this case the elf presented little threat.  
  
“Dammit Ivy, I’m trying to help.” He said and there was clear annoyance in his voice.  
  
“You _are_ helping.” Ivy insisted and rolled to press her chest against his and rest her head on his shoulder, the large arms enveloped her and he kissed her head for a long moment before pulling back and taking up the washcloth again. “Just keep doing that.” She purred as the cloth was dragged down her spine, rivulets of water making its way along her skin and into the bath. The rough pad of his thumb grazed across her back, tracing the outline of her scar absently as he sighed and relaxed into the water as much as he could, his feet propped up on the edge.  
  
“The Qunari emissary will arrive soon.” Bull said casually.  
  
“Are you worried?”   
  
“Why would I be?” He peered at Ivy who smiled and giggled at his look. “I’ve been doing my duty and although it’s true I haven’t returned to Qun lands for some time I think I’ll have no trouble dealing with a _diplomat_.”  
  
“My big and scary Ben-Hassrath.” Ivy purred and he let out a languid laugh. “I’ll be hiding among the ranks.” She trailed her finger along his chest, leaving water to bead in its path.  
  
“It’s probably for the best.” He rumbled. “Despite the _small_ chance of being recognised, it’s better not to allow that risk.”   
  
“I’ll miss you.” She admitted quietly and he gently pulled her closer with a sigh.  
  
“It won’t be for long. At least we’re both staying in Skyhold for a while.”  
  
“That almost makes it worse, being in the same place and not being able to see you.” She almost wished she took Cullen up on his offer to send her to Ferelden.  
  
“Come with me to the Tavern tomorrow night.” He insisted trying to cheer her up. “There’s still a few days until this emissary is supposed to arrive, you finish your sentry duty mid-afternoon and after that we can put fear into that dwarven bartender.”  
  
“Will you not be needed elsewhere?” She tried to hide the wariness in her voice but the brief pause in his movements told her that he hadn’t missed it.  
  
“Nowhere that I care to be.”  
  


The sun was a few hours away from setting as she looked over the mountains from the walls of Skyhold. It was beautiful, perfect white snow interrupted only by the black of the mountain rocks, clear blue sky with just a hint of clouds in the horizon. Once the sun began to set it would turn the sky different shades of orange and pink before giving way to endless stars against inky black sky.

Looked down from the battlement and across from her position she could see the side of the tavern and Cassandra destroying a straw dummy with her sword, chunks of straw were flying up into the air and floating down gently while the Seeker hacked relentlessly at it. Laughing to herself she stretched, it would only be a couple more hours before she would be able to finish her shift and go to the tavern with Bull. She was about to turn and look out over the mountain range again when she noticed Adaar wandering out from the alleyway that was behind the tavern and stopping, looking about and acting a bit suspiciously. Ivy’s stomach flipped with anxiety and worsened when she saw Iron Bull walk up behind her, a grin on his face as he stepped in close and spoke to her quietly, his hand caressing her waist. Ivy felt heat flash through her chest and face as a swell of anger, anxiety and crippling betrayal swirled in her. She looked away, turning to the mountains as she breathed deeply and swallowed down the lump in her throat. She wanted to scream, to hurl the spear she held across the courtyard at Bull, but instead she stood stock still and held it all in. _Fuck._

After her shift she returned the spear to the armoury and headed straight for Cullen’s office, the last couple of hours of her guard duty were filled with waves of anger then depression, then apathy and then anger again. She walked quickly along the walls, ignoring people who greeted her before she quickly burst into the warmth of Cullen’s office.  
  
“Cullen,” she said quickly as he looked up from his desk, “have you got any work for me?” he stared at her for a moment and she stopped directly in front of his desk feeling tense.  
  
“No?” he drew out the word suspiciously before putting his quill into the stand on his desk and leaning back in his chair. “Your shift is done for the day and we agreed no delivering messages on the days you do the watch.” She sighed and raked her hand through her hair, pacing a few steps, her mind was racing with thoughts and she needed to keep it quiet by keeping herself busy.  
  
“I know,” she said, “but I need something to do.”  
  
“Well,” he huffed a laugh, “I could send you to scout the Hissing Wastes, plenty there to keep you distracted.” Ivy thought it over for a moment, she could do with a break from the snow. Her consideration of it made him pause and lean forward, looking at her in suspicious concern.  
  
“What happened?” he asked and she shook her head, she didn’t want to talk about it, _couldn’t._ “Well I’m not giving you work while you’re this tense, you’ll bite the head off of some poor rookie. If you don’t want to talk about it go take a page out of Cassandra’s book and chop up a training dummy." She sighed and it turned into a frustrated groan as she petulantly stomped out of Cullen’s office, she heard him laugh quietly as she closed the door behind her.  
  


She was crossing the training yard like a storm when Iron Bull jogged up behind her.  
  
“Hey, I thought we had a date.” He smiled and said cheerfully as she kept walking in a cloud of anger.  
  
“Fuck off.” She spat and him and he frowned at her outburst.  
  
“Ouch, okay.” He jumped forward a bit and walked backwards, holding the same pace as he tried the conversation again. “That was a bit uncalled for, anything you want to get off your chest?” She felt the tell-tale lump in her throat as tears threatened at her eyes, seeing her reaction he stopped her stride with a hand on her shoulder and she jerked away from his touch.  
  
“Don’t touch me Hissrad.” She spat, her angry mind slipping his old name out of her mouth, he raised his eyebrows and held his hands up as if to show he wasn’t armed and stepped back.  
  
“Okay, I won’t touch you.” He said calmly. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?” she paced and scrubbed at her face with her hand, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, she was done with looking weak.  
  
“What’s wrong.” She said bitterly. “You jump from one woman to another and ask me what is wrong?” He frowned and straightened his spine.  
  
“Maybe we should talk about this where we can’t be overheard.” He said quietly and she stared at him unbelievingly.  
  
“Afraid that I’ll ruin the good thing you’ve got going?” Ivy hissed and he stared her down, stoic as she twitched and raged. “Does she even know about me? Or have you kept her in the dark too?”  
  
“That isn’t fair,” he said flatly, “I never lied to either of you.”  
  
“No, just omitted the truth when convenient.” Ivy said and he huffed, shaking his head. “I’m so stupid.” She sighed and looked about, noticing the nearby people trying to eavesdrop without looking obvious about it. “I should have learned the first time not to fall in love with a Qunari.”

Iron Bull glared at her as he reached down and snatched up her wrist, pushing her sleeve up her arm and exposing the dragon tooth necklace. He held her wrist between them as if it were damning evidence.  
  
“How could you claim to think of me, to love _me,_ when you can’t forget _him_?” he said spat angrily and shook his head. “It is not Adaar that I feel for, it is _you_ , you silly human.” He whispered and Ivy felt her cheeks flush, casting her eyes down angrily to the always wet cobblestone. She felt his free hand cup the side of her head, the heat of his palm radiating through her hair. “But I am not so unfeeling that I can ignore what is right in front of me. Unless you can give yourself – all of yourself – to me, I will not do the same.” She felt his forehead bump against her hair and he sighed. “Surely that is fair?”  
  
“The Arishok is dead.” She whispered, holding back the sob that threatened at her throat.  
  
“Then why act like he is still a part of your life?” he said flatly before kissing her head and slipping from her to walk away.  
  


She found herself in the chapel, somewhere she always actively avoided, sitting alone on a pew and holding her head in her hands. She looked up at the large statue of Andraste and laughed bitterly.  
  
“It’s all just a game to you, isn’t it?” she spoke and her quiet voice echoed in the stone room. “We’re just pawns, hell, I’m not even on the right board.” She half sobbed into her hand, pulling at her hair as she leaned forward. “It’s been _eight years_. Why take me from my family and throw me here? Why let me remember my old life? Surely there was a reason for it.” She gasped and pulled at her hair tighter, the pain holding her back from going into hysterics.

The soft sound of footsteps stilled her and Cullen sat beside her on the pew. Silently he pulled her curled up form to lean on him, her head on his lap.  
  
“Screaming at Andraste won’t make it better.” He quietly scolded her and she hid her face in her hands. “And by the sounds of it, you’re not even screaming about the right thing.”  
  
“What do you know?” she said petulantly and he petted her shoulder comfortingly.  
  
“I know Iron Bull just about drank the tavern dry in half an hour. He got so reckless that I had to get his Chargers to help me pull him out. I know the two of you had a fight in the courtyard and I know the Inquisitor had something to do with it.”  
  
“You’re very perceptive.” She drawled and he huffed a laugh.  
  
“He didn’t sleep with Adaar.” Cullen said flatly and Ivy didn’t believe him. “Don’t know if he was going to, but he didn’t. She has been flirting like crazy at him though.”  
  
“Doesn’t make me feel any better.” She said and he hummed.  
  
“I saw him grab your wrist before.” He said as he picked the offending wrist up and cradled it in his hand. “Did he hurt you?”  
  
“No.” She said. “He may be a liar but he wouldn’t hurt me.”  
  
“An improvement on the last one.”  
  
“I’m not in the mood to laugh Cullen.”  
  
“Good because it wasn’t a joke.” He replied and she sat back up, her hand falling into his as he squeezed it. “You told me about this necklace once, back in Haven. What it meant in Qunari culture, something about never being apart from the one you love.” He held up her wrist to her and the tooth glittered in the light. “Do you think that Bull is acting this way because he’s afraid that you still love the Arishok?”  
  
“He’s dead.” She said exasperatingly.  
  
“And that stops someone from loving another does it?” he chided and she dropped her head to his shoulder. “The weight you carry from your time with him is immense.” He said softly with a sigh. “His shadow dogs your actions, your decisions. Much more than a wariness of your abilities or a scar on your back. People see it, none more so than the ones who care for you. You need to let him go.” She sniffed and nodded her head as Cullen gently worked at the knot that kept the necklace in place, he pulled it off and lowered it into the palm of her hand, curling her fingers around it as her wrist felt cold and bare. “Talk to Bull before he gets it into his thick head that Adaar is even half the woman you are.” He ordered her and she stood, wiping at her face and straightening her back. He smiled at her proudly, reaching out to adjust her armour slightly before nodding his head to the doorway.  
  


Krem was guarding the door to Iron Bull’s room and wasn’t happy to see her, just watched her with arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“If he tries anything stupid,” Krem grumbled, “Hit the thick headed cow with a chair.” Ivy promised that she would even if he didn’t try anything and was let in.

Iron Bull was sprawled out on his bed, face down into the pillow and either snoring or mumbling to himself. Ivy walked over with a sigh, touching the back of his leg tentatively and when he didn’t kick her away she peeled off her armour before crawling on top of him, listening to his soft grumbles of complaint as she lay face down on his back, her hands coming up to rub gently at his horns.  
  
“I get it.” He grumbled into the pillow, sounding a bit inebriated. “You want to ride the Bull.”  
  
“I’ve _been_ riding you. Idiot.” She said and he growled before pushing up onto his hands and knees, she gripped onto his shoulders and her legs automatically gripped onto his waist, with a snort of laughter she realised she was ‘riding the Bull’.  
  
“I haven’t heard you laugh for a long time, you know that?” he said as he kneeled, Ivy still holding onto him. “It’s almost like there was a part of you missing. That part that always wanted to get under my skin as we trained during the night in Par Vollen.”  
  
“You kept throwing me into the ground.” Ivy said, remembering how the dust always covered her from head to toe.   
  
“Yeah but you always got back up again.” He said proudly and reached for her, pulling her around his body so he could see her. “We’ve been dancing around each other a long time now.” He said quietly pulling her hands up to his lips and he kissed her knuckles. “I’ve been thinking, for a while actually, that we ought to step this up.”  
  
“You never mentioned this before.” She said warily.  
  
“I didn’t know if I could have committed to you, I guess I was worried about my place in your heart. And I’ve never tried to be in a _traditional_ relationship before.”  
  
“Bull, even if we tried, we could never have a _traditional_ relationship.” He laughed at that. “But, I think you need to be clear with me, I don’t want to feel like I did today ever again. Where is this going?” he looked at her with wary and sparkling eyes.  
  
“It’s going to be you and me.” He said softly. “No-one else. And if you want it I’m going to give you everything I can.” She stared at him a moment before leaning in and pressing her lips to his, his sigh leading into a groan as he leaned forward, lowering her onto the bed. “Are you sure?” he asked, moving back to look at her cautiously.   
  
“Bull,” Ivy said steadily as her hand reached up to cup his face, “Whatever you’ve been holding back from me, it’s time to let it go.” He reached down and gripped her wrists, pulling them above her head and pinning them to the mattress. Looking down at her he smiled hungrily before letting his free hand wander over her curves wantonly.  
  
“You will need a word.” He said and it took her a moment to catch on to what he was saying, her heart fluttered and heat rose in her cheeks, he was telling her to choose a safe-word, _Maker_.  
  
“Talan.” She said and he gave her one calculating look, she had given him the Qunlat word for _truth_. He nodded once, accepting it.  
  


He started off mildly gentle, holding her wrists in place as he slowly peeled off her clothing, taking his time in exploring and claiming her skin piece by piece and trying to coax an array of different sounds from her. She was shivering beneath him, hyper-aware of each brush of his fingers, lick of his tongue and sharp scrape of his teeth and soon she was writhing in frustration.  
  
“You’re still holding back.” She teased him and he raked his eyes over her darkly before pulling away, releasing her wrists and stalking over to a small box. Opening it he produced a length of fabric and shaking it out he ordered her to kneel. As she did he pulled her wrists together behind her and tied them, gripping her upper arm to drag her off the bed, he pulled her in close, her back to him as one hand twisted in her hair and the other travelled south to circle her clit. She gasped a moan and he pulled her head back by the hair his deep voice close to her ear.  
  
“You remember your word.” He assumed and she nodded, biting her lip. “Good. On your knees.” She obeyed and knelt in front of him, his hand stroking her cheek before tracing along her lower lip. She parted them and he slipped a finger into her mouth, encouraging her to suck while he unlaced his pants with his free hand.

Kneeling she was the perfect height for what he intended and when he pushed the front of his pants down letting his cock spring free she didn’t hesitate in licking a long stripe up his shaft, kissing at the tip to suck away the pre cum as it beaded. He groaned his appreciation before gripping her hair again, shifting and moving her to what he wanted. She gave over to the feeling of velvet skin against her tongue, mouth stretching wide to accommodate as a chorus of low growls began to fall from his lips.  
  
“Do you know _why_ the Qun works so well for Kossith?” he asked with a growl and she looked up at him with lidded eyes. She didn’t overly care why right now, she just wanted him to keep going. “We are a base and savage race, primal and war-like until the strict tenants of the Qun were created to control our desires.” He pulled her away from him and moved her to the wall, pressing her face against it as her feet were spread apart and hips pulled to direct back at him. His mouth was close to her ear, his deep voice cascading over her skin as he spoke.  
  
“It is effective, but in the end we are still savage, centuries of religious law can only cover up our need to dominate and feed our desires.” He slid a finger into her, pausing a moment before adding another one to it, he growled and bit at her shoulder lightly, pumping her with his digits as she whimpered and moaned against the wall. He laughed low in his throat and slowly added another, letting the pleasurable stretch and burn sink in, encouraging her in whispers against her shoulder.   
  
“I’ve been gentle with you.” He growled and his voice sent shivers down her skin. “Holding back, but you want all of me, and that’s _exactly_ what I’m going to do.” The sudden absence of his fingers was replaced with the pressure of his cock and he pushed into her, her head snapping back as she cried her pleasure, he drove into her, unrelenting as he worked her open and moaned into her hair. She felt overwhelmed, the way he pinned her against the wall, his claws digging into her hips, the bite of the fabric against her wrists, it all spoke to her on a baser level – one that didn’t emerge until Bull coaxed it out of her. She moaned deeply, her orgasm building in her and he pulled out, roughly turning her and with a surprised gasp he lifted her, hands under her ass, and pressed her back to the wall. He gave no warning before he thrust back into her roughly, pressing further and further until he was completely sheathed in her. He stopped and looked down at her, eye glinting with something heated before he crushed his lips to hers, tongue roughly sliding into her mouth.  
  
“You don’t come until I say so.” He rasped and she bit her lip, the way she said it nearly tipped her over the edge as it was.

Long, slow thrusts of his hips taunted and teased her, the stone wall biting into her arms and back to encourage her further. Her voice was loud now, each breath shuddering in a gasp that was echoed by his quiet grunts. His lips kissed and sucked at her neck, a trail that made its way to just beneath her ear.  
  
“Kadan.” He rasped as his rhythm became faulty. “Come for me.” As if he flicked a switch her body tensed, a ragged moan escaping her as she came, he held her tight as her hips bucked involuntarily and a moment later he abandoned his precise movements to thrust without restraint, the wet sounds of flesh hitting echoing in the room as he growled, pulling out completely and stroking his length as he came over her stomach with a growl and a shudder.

His face in the crook of her neck he took her weight, supporting her with one hand and reached back to undo the knot of fabric, letting it drop to the floor as she was released. Her arms automatically slid around his shoulders and he carried her wordlessly to the bed, gently lowering her with a kiss before he rummaged around his room for a cloth. Having found one he came back and cleaned her stomach gently, taking a couple of liberties with the cloth as it rounded her breast.  
  
“Are you hurt?” He asked cautiously and Ivy knew that even if she were she wouldn’t tell him, that it was important to him that she accepted this side of him.  
  
“No.” She said truthfully, her cheeks blushing as she smiled to him. “Actually, I liked it. A lot.” She admitted and he grinned, leaning in to kiss her deeply.  
  
“I’m glad.” He said and held her hand, as his thumb trailed over the contraceptive bracelet he frowned and looked down. “The necklace-” he began.  
  
“I put it away.” She said to him and he gave her a closed expression. “I want to give all of myself to you and it was holding me back.” He smiled at her with a sort of proud relief and pulled the fur blanket over them both.  
  
“Kadan.” He said again as he pulled her into his chest, she smiled against his skin as his hands gently massaged along her back.  
  
“Kadan.” She whispered to him as she began to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tries to resist the 'porn with plot' tag* Oh who am I kidding we've been porn with plot for a while now.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She breathed raggedly, panic making it difficult. He smiled at her tightly as if he were worried about showing too much emotion. Ivy didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t run, couldn’t fight.

The room was warm as she stirred in her sleep, the fireplace had died down to embers and the fur she was under was nearly stifling. She groaned and stretched her legs, her toes flicking the end of the straw mattress. Hot hands glided along her back and across her ribs, urging her to roll back into the broad chest that waited patiently. Bleary eyed and with a smile she rolled, letting her arms drag lazily. The lips against hers were soft but determined, trying to coax her awake and turn her attention to baser desires. She hummed in satisfaction as the large Kossith hands massaged her hips, smiling she turned to her lover with eyes closed.  
  
"You’re going to break me with all this attention.” She teased in a sleepy slur.  
  
“I would not harm you, Kadan.” Ivy shot her eyes open at the voice she had not heard for years, not since Kirkwall. Heart pounding in fear she came face to face with long silver hair and two dark eyes staring down at her.  
  
“Arishok?” she said and he crushed his lips to hers, hands gripping hard against her flesh.

With a gasp that sounded like a drowning man breaking a water she bolted upright. Her heart thudded painfully and uneven as she looked around the dark room, the feeling of his hands still hot on her skin.  
  
“Ivy.” She gasped and turned to see Iron Bull sprawled naked on the fur, his hands on her where the Arishok’s burned. “You’re alright.” He said softly as she calmed her breathing, her whole body shaking. “You’re in your room at Skyhold, its early morning, still dark out.” He grounded her with the information, something he was terribly good at and she didn’t want to know all the situations he had to use that particular skill for. “I’m here, have been all night and will be until dawn.” She looked to him and saw a war of concern and anger dancing along his shadowed expression.   
  
“Bull?” she said breathily and he smiled tightly.  
  
“There you are.” He said as if she had just walked into the room. “Name three things you can see.” He ordered and she glanced around, trying to pick three things but her brain was lagging, still focussing on the way the Arishok’s lips had felt on hers.  
  
“Book, blanket and you.” She said and he nodded.  
  
“Now what do they all have in common?” he asked and she had to concentrate on the question, it dragged her mind from its focus, gave it a new one.  
  
“All start with ‘B’, book, blanket, Bull.” She nodded and her heart stilled, her breathing returned to normal. “And they all belong to me.” She said teasingly and he laughed.  
  
“Atta girl.” His hand rubbed comfortingly along her spine as she lay back down and curled into the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest as if to keep him there. “You were dreaming, wanna talk about it?” She stared at the glow of the fireplace over the expanse of Bull’s chest.  
  
“No.” she said in a whisper.  
  
"Was it a vision?" He asked carefully and Ivy didn't doubt that she was talking in her sleep, the way that Bull watched her every movement was clear even in the low light.

"A nightmare." she said and pushed closer to him, his arm tightening as he awkwardly lifted his head to kiss the top of hers. Her heart was still racing but it was calming with the knowledge that she was safe in Bull's arms.

 

Dawn came and Bull reluctantly got dressed alongside Ivy by the fireplace. They were both to report to their posts, Bull’s in the throne room to prepare for the Qunari Emissary who was arriving today and Ivy’s was in the furthest corner of the battlements away from the celebration. Big arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled into the curve of his body, his lips finding her neck before she turned her head to meet them with her own.  
  
“I need to put my pants on Bull.” Ivy said with a smile as she held up the offending garment, he just looked at the fabric with a glare.  
  
“Such cold things you say to me.” He pouted before squeezing her tighter and burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “I’ll come and see you as soon as I’m done with the formalities.”  
  
“Is that wise? Surely they’ll be keeping an eye on you.”   
  
“I’ll be careful.” He promised as he mouthed at her skin. “If I think it’s too dangerous I won’t, but I want to see you tonight.”  
  
“I’d like to try to see them out-spy you.” Ivy laughed and he straightened up with a grin, she turned to look him over, hands running along his skin appreciatively and she smiled to herself. She was happy. An almost strange sensation to her. Despite the chaos reigning in Thedas, despite the secrets she kept and the danger they were in constantly she was actually _happy._ Iron Bull’s hand reached up to cover hers where it rested on his chest, she had been staring at unintentionally and when she looked up to meet his eye he was wearing a knowing smile.  
  
“Kadan,” his deep voice rumbled even though it was barely above a whisper, “I love you.” Her heart thudded in her chest as she felt the beginning of a blush grace her skin. It was the first time he had said that to her, a terribly human thing to say and something she never really expected to hear from him given that he was still loyal to the Qun despite being away from it for so long. Her breath was a short huff of air as she smiled and looked down to her feet bashfully, she could feel his heartbeat under her hand and it was steady – only slightly elevated.  
  
“You’re breaking a lot of rules saying that.” Ivy joked and he huffed a laugh.  
  
“The Qun doesn’t have to know about what I say to you in the privacy of a bedroom.” He smiled at her, placing a hand on her jaw to prompt her to look up to him. “If they knew everything I said to you, called you, demanded of you-” his voice lowered suggestively as he leaned in to kiss her and it sent an anticipatory shiver along her skin.   
  
“You’re going to make us late if you keep going that way.” She scolded him breathily and his mischievous grin was worth any punishment she may have received.  
  
“Good thing you’re already half undressed.” He teased and his hand came down to palm her behind, the slight scratch of claws completely intentional as she squeaked and laughed.  
  
“I love you, Bull.” She kissed him as he scooped her up, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he walked them over to the bed again.

 

It was a miracle she wasn’t late to relieve the soldier who was at her assigned post. Bull was far too convincing in certain aspects and she struggled to escape the bedroom to go on duty – not that she wanted to leave the post-coital bliss but she also didn’t want to tempt Cullen’s temper on a day like today. She was there for nearly an hour when a Major approached her and informed her of a new posting for the day.  
  
“Jula is sick along with a few others – some illness is spreading through the barracks so I need you to cover her position in the throne room for today.” He ordered her and frowned at her wide-eyed expression.  
  
“Oh.” she mumbled. “I-”  
  
“Is there a reason you aren’t moving right now Captain?”  
  
“No Ser.” Ivy said and double timed it to the throne room under the glare of the superior officer.

 

Ivy stood with her back along the walls of the throne room, there was a sizable crowd of nobles gathered along the sides of the room, half in those Orlesian masks and the other half without but all of them were there to see the Qunari procession and Adaar’s reaction to a Qun presence. From her vantage point near the door to the undercroft she could see Inquisitor Adaar clearly, her horns curling back gracefully and glinting with the golden circlets they were adorned with. She had an air about her of righteousness, and it was clear that even if others doubted she was chosen by Andraste – Adaar certainly believed.

Cullen waited patiently to the left of the throne and a few steps below it, hand on the hilt of his sword as usual and clearly resisting the urge to pace. Josephine and Leliana were to the right. In front of Ivy Varric stood widely which meant there was a good break in the crowd so she could see where they would greet the Qunari Emissary, he glanced back at her casually and gave a wink which earned him a smile, she hadn’t seen much of him lately but he always said hello or winked whenever they crossed paths.

Josephine stood forward with her quill in hand and it urged the audience of nobles to quiet so they could hear the charges of any upcoming prisoners before the Emissary was announced. Ivy understood the entertainment value the nobles found in watching the court proceedings, but still found it tasteless. Josephine cleared her throat and began to announce the reason for gathering.  
  
“We are honoured to receive the Qunari Ambassador at Skyhold today,” she said in that wonderful Antivan lilt, Ivy honestly could just listen to her speak all day. “And as a show of good faith will be handing over a prisoner that is wanted for high crimes against the Qunari people.” Ivy tried to remember who the ambassador was, something to do with the explosive powder that the Qunari used, Gaatlock, _Gatt._ He was an elf named Gatt, she noted to herself that she would have to ask Bull about him more when they managed to talk next.

Sounds of horns echoed in the hall and Ivy resisted the urge to look at the procession of Qunari. Her hood was up which affected her peripheral vision but it worked to tame her hair and hold back the chill that was still present in the castle. The heavy footsteps of Sten echoed and it sent a familiar shiver down her spine, she noticed Cullen giving her a sideways glance, probably worried about her nerves, or only just noticing that she had her hood up which _technically_ was not the proper dress for being on duty during a ceremony like this. But hey, she was standing in for someone else and he knew she didn’t want to be noticed. He could lecture her about dress codes later but she’d be damned if she was going to let him dress her down for it.

The Inquisitor stood and stepped down from the platform to bow to the ambassador, who to Ivy’s surprise was not an elf but a Kossith, she could see his stature but he was wearing some kind of cultural armour, the pauldrons far too large to see his features. He was tall though and bowed graciously to Adaar, something Ivy wasn’t used to seeing a Kossith do. The back of her mind was not happy though, she was missing something important, something she couldn’t place and the feeling wasn’t helped by yet another quick glance in her direction from Cullen.  
  
“You honour us with your presence, Ambassador, Shanedan.” Adaar said smoothly as she bowed, earning a small, proud smile from Josephine who had been working tirelessly to instil diplomacy into the Inquisitor’s repertoire.   
  
“The honour is mutual.” The ambassador spoke and a cold spike of fear and realisation thrilled through Ivy’s spine, she knew that voice, how could she have ever forgotten it? The cadence, the tone, the deep rumbling she had always felt to her core. “Please, call me Beresaad, it will assist you in differentiating between myself and the Sten.” Ivy’s grip tightened on the hilt of her sword where it was resting casually before, her heart felt like it was pounding in her throat, so hard she wondered of others could hear it. She remained still, unable to move even if commanded, not certain if she was still breathing or not.  
  
“Beresaad?” The Inquisitor continued on with the small talk. “Is that not the title of a part of your army?”   
  
“It is indeed.” He responded flatly, not with interest as other ambassadors would, he simply answered the question. “We are the vanguard of the Qunari People, should the Arishok have a question it is my duty to seek the answers.” The Inquisitor gestured for the ambassador to move closer to the throne, to a nearby chair that was set aside for him during the prisoner exchange.  
  
“And your Arishok has questions about the Inquisition?” Adaar asked almost playfully and Ivy felt sick to her stomach, certain that if someone looked her way she would be ashen.  
  
“Yes, as does the rest of Thedas.” The ambassador stopped and turned to the Inquisitor, his body facing directly at Ivy, her stomach plummeted as her fears were confirmed. This ambassador, Beresaad, whatever he called himself, was her Arishok.

 

Adaar called for the prisoner to be escorted in and barely a minute later Tomen was led in with his hands bound. He hissed as he was ungraciously dropped to his knees, the daylight doing nothing to improve his complexion from the dungeons. His matted brown hair looked worse and Ivy could have sworn she could smell him from her post by the wall. He looked up to the Arishok – no, Beresaad – and grinned.   
  
“They took you down a peg huh?” he jibed at the glowering Qunari.  
  
“As a courtesy to the Qunari people we are happy to extradite the thief and assassin known as Tomen Vellhorn.” Josephine read from her strange clipboard. “Tomen,” she addressed him and he gave her a wink, “you are wanted for the crimes of theft, uncivil behaviour, murder and escape of justice.”  
  
“Let’s not air out each other’s dirty laundry.” Tomen said with a smile and a few of the nobles tittered quietly.  
  
“Do you deny these crimes?” Josephine asked, standard judgement procedure and it seemed that they were going to sentence him now, likely handing over to Beresaad for the decision.  
  
“Of course not.” Tomen replied. “In _fact_ I can give you a few more; horse theft, arson and prostitution- only once mind you it was a slow week.” Ivy frowned, raking her gaze over the elf from under her hood, what the hell was he doing?  
  
“You seem unconcerned about your situation.” Adaar pointed out and Tomen just grinned.  
  
“That is because I’ll be released momentarily.” He said confidently and the crowd laughed again. Adaar rolled her eyes, already annoyed by his attitude.  
  
“And why is that?” she asked, taking the bait.  
  
“Because I have information on a fugitive that is worth _much_ more than I.” he said before looking straight into Beresaad’s eyes. “You let me go and I will tell you where your Seer is.”

 

The moment he said it the hall fell to a hushed whisper, the ambassador shifting of his seat to lean forward in what Ivy could recognise as interest. Her hands were shaking, surely they couldn’t _give_ her to him? She caught Iron Bull’s stare as he leaned against the wall on the far side of the room, he looked grim – his own version of worried.

A soldier passed Ivy, gaining the attention of Cullen and giving him a chance to step to the side of the ceremony, the soldier talked to him quickly and he nodded, gesturing for the two soldiers stationed behind the throne to come to him before he did the same to Ivy. She somehow urged herself to move quietly, sticking behind the crowd and out of sight. Cullen talked quickly to the two, giving them orders before they left discreetly, Ivy stepped up, ensuring her hood was blocking her face from the gaze of the Qunari and Cullen placed his hand on her shoulder to pull her closer, close enough that he could whisper.  
  
“Orders, Commander?” she breathily whispered to him, untrusting of her voice.  
  
“There has been movement along the eastern ridge, I’ve sent those two to scout it out,” he glanced up at the room while he talked, a habit of watching his surroundings that he kept up, “get to the stables and take a mount, use them as cover to head east and once far enough away from Skyhold break south from them and cross into Ferelden.”  
  
“Commander?” she asked, not wanting to hear his orders.  
  
“Report to the King.” He said sadly, urging her with his gaze to follow orders for once. He was sending her away again, his expression telling her that it may be for a long time – or for good. Her head was shaking minutely, her eyes wide as she mouthed _no_ silently – He squeezed her shoulder and discretely shot her a sorrowful look, he didn’t like this any more than she did.   
  
“Cullen-” she barely whispered and he schooled his face to be blank, covered in the air of command.  
  
“Dismissed, soldier.” He said flatly, keeping his commanding officer persona in check while the urgency flickered behind his eyes. She nodded once and picked her way back to behind the crowd, skirting along the walls as she walked quickly for the door that would lead to the rotunda, from there she could cut across the walls and get to the stables quickly.   
  
“Commander,” Beresaad said, “if there is a concern my Sten are ready to assist.”  
  
“Not at all, Ambassador.” Ivy heard Cullen say as she walked through the door. Ivy risked a glance behind her to Bull as she opened the door to the rotunda, he was staring ahead, not watching her leave or giving her away in any form but his hands were clenched into fists.

 

By the time she reached the stables the other two soldiers had barely left, she could hear their horses galloping away and she picked up her pace, finding an already saddled mare in the third stall. She opened the stall and brought the mare out as calmly as she could, it would do her no good to spook the horse now. She paused for a moment, glancing back in the direction of the main hall although she couldn’t see it for the walls of the stable. She didn’t _want_ to leave, the fighting, surviving, the fall of Haven, it felt almost for nothing as she prepared to flee back to Ferelden.

She sighed heavily and the mare watched her carefully, she had a choice, run back to Ferelden, where she could go back to her old post in the King’s Guard or try to help Alistair with rebuilding the Hinterlands or she could stay. But staying meant the risk of being taken back to Par Vollen and being back in the hands of the Qunari. If they considered her a fugitive – which Bull had informed her back in Haven that they did– they could send her to the re-educators or worse, they may even execute her.

There was a humming confidence in the back of her mind that she could survive on her own now. Not like when she fled Kirkwall and she felt a fear of ending up on the streets, if she needed to she knew she could survive outside of the cities and away from her friends who had protected her until now – and were still protecting her. Hunting and surviving off the land was always another possibility, despite the dangers and chaos perhaps she could do some good on her own, maybe it would be better if she stepped back and let events unfold without her. She would be alone, but her loved ones wouldn’t have to worry about hiding a fugitive.

Tightness gripped her chest as she thought of the way Cullen looked at her as he told her to run, the way Bull looked worried from across the room, the way Varric had inched back towards her protectively. Her friends, her soldiers, she was going to leave them all behind. She was going to leave Iron Bull behind again. If she stayed she could be with him, but if she stayed the Qunari could question why he didn’t report her whereabouts, if she stayed they could both be executed. She had to go.

Once sitting in the saddle she steeled her nerves and took a shaking breath, she had to go, and quickly. Whether it was to Ferelden or on her own she could decide once she was safe and beyond the reach of Beresaad. With haste she rode out of the stables, kicking the mare into a gallop and riding across the uneven cobblestones and past the few merchant stalls towards the gate, she was riding fast – knowing she was breaking the rules by doing so within the walls and in any other situation she would be getting a lecture like you wouldn’t believe from an irate Commander- but she had stalled enough as it was. She sped to the tall gates, the only way out of Skyhold and saw the clear path into the icy mountains, the air sharp in her lungs and on her skin. The horse galloped towards the bridge recklessly and it was too fast to swerve when two soldiers stepped out in front of the gate, right into her path. She tried to stop, but the icy ground just panicked the mare who reared up, the shouts of the startled men didn’t help either and she was bucked from the saddle, falling to the stone ground awkwardly on her shoulder and hitting her forehead.

Hands were hovering over her to see if she was alright, the concerned voices of the men filtering through a haze and ringing of a probable concussion.  
  
“Forgive us,” one of the men said, “we did not hear you approach.”  
  
“We shall take you to the infirmary.” The other said.  
  
“No,” Ivy gasped as she opened her eyes, the light stabbing pain through her head, “I’m fine, I must go.” She sat up and whimpered back a cry of pain. Her shoulder was dislocated. Damn it, every time she tried to escape she got injured, first the brand on her back, now this? How the hell was she going to get to Ferelden in this state?  
  
“You are unable to ride.” The first one said and Ivy looked up to him, he was Qunari, his horns high and wide and skin painted in red. He frowned at her staring and glanced to the second who Ivy felt shrug behind her.  
  
“You are also bleeding.” the second said and he helped her stand, Ivy touched her fingertips to her right temple, she _was_ bleeding, and a lot of it too by the looks of it. “We will assist you.”

They walked her back into the heart of Skyhold, one on either side of her and the one on her left had a strong grip on her upper arm to help her as she dragged her feet and stumbled in an attempt to walk. Ivy blinked and noticed they were walking up the steps to the hall and she began to panic.  
  
“The infirmary is behind us, I will be alright if you take me there.” She said somewhat calmly.  
  
“Our grievance must be reported.” The one on her right replied. “We do not wish to interfere with the negotiations.”

They walked together into the hall and Ivy swore under her breath, the cold wind blew in behind them, letting her hair flutter wildly. They approached carefully, mindful of the pain she was in but it was not subtle, they did not walk her along the edges of the crowd, they walked straight down the middle as if they were presenting a prisoner themselves, the nobles murmuring at the new development in the day’s entertainment.

Ivy noticed that Tomen was breathing heavily, almost curling in to his left and a few heavy drops of blood were spattered on the floor. He saw them approach out of the corner of his eyes and swore as she was deposited beside him, not so much forced to kneel as her knees gave out, her head swirling.  
  
“Soldier,” the Inquisitor said somewhat pissed off, “what has happened to you?” Ivy breathed heavily and glanced to Cullen quickly, his brow was furrowed in a frown and he was incredibly still as if he were recalculating the situation.  
  
“An accident, your worship.” Ivy responded with laboured breath before doubling over and dry retching. Definitely a concussion. “The Sten stepped into the path of my horse who reared up, I was thrown off. I will report to the infirmary right away.” She looked to her right and Tomen just huffed a snort as if to say _look at us, we’re fucked._  
  
“That would be for the best. If you are able to do so we will continue with our discussion of your missing Seer, Beresaad?” Adaar said and looked to him, Ivy couldn’t look up at him, didn’t dare. Instead she painfully got to one knee, good arm clutching at her dislocated one to support it and slowly stood.  
  
“That will not be necessary, Inquisitor.” Beresaad rumbled and Ivy felt one of the Sten behind her put his hand on her good shoulder, lightly applying pressure and forcing her back onto one knee with a painful cry. Beresaad stood from his chair and gracefully stepped forward, his massive plated boots coming into Ivy’s swirling vision. He knelt down onto one knee in front of her, his clawed hand raising from below to gently touch under her chin and lift it. She slowly looked up, taking in the intricate armour, the same broad chest with the jagged scar that Hawke’s sword had left, the dragon tooth necklace that hung from his neck with a malevolent glint, the strong jaw and long silver hair and finally his dark eyes, glittering with victory.

She breathed raggedly, panic making it difficult. He smiled at her tightly as if he were worried about showing too much emotion. Ivy didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. She just said the first thing that popped into her mind.  
  
“You should be dead.” She spat out as the blood from her head trickled down her face, she didn’t mean for it to sound vindictive, but that’s how it came out. He frowned momentarily and shook his head.   
  
“Not even death could keep us apart, Kadan.” He said softly, quietly enough that only she could hear as he tucked a curl behind her ear. Ivy was genuinely terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone, as always I love hearing your thoughts <3


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You saw the way he looked at her when she was dragged in, there is no way that he’s going to agree to any of our terms unless she is a part of one. So if I’m going to put us on the line, put one person before the entire Inquisition I need to know everything.” She yelled, uncaring if anyone outside the room could hear.

In light of the new and scandalous development the Inquisitor called a close to the day’s proceedings, leaving the nobles to gossip and speculate wildly on the Inquisition soldier who was dragged in by Sten.

Cullen stepped forward and ushered the Sten who flanked Ivy away as two soldiers escorted Tomen back to his cell in the dungeon and for once the elf was without anything to say. Cullen looked extremely unhappy with Ivy but he still helped her stand, taking her weight against his side as they moved slowly towards the War Room.  
  
“Inquisitor,” Beresaad said as Ivy was taken away, “I am eager to continue our negotiations.”  
  
“Of course, Beresaad.” Adaar said to him diplomatically. “However this situation has become complicated, I must confer with my advisors. Please feel free to enjoy Skyhold, Iron Bull will show you where your quarters are.” She spun and strode away to the War Room along with Leliana and Josephine.  
  


Cullen wasn’t a healer, but he knew what to do with her shoulder. Years of being in the military and in campaigns Ivy didn’t doubt he knew almost everything about surviving and field medicine. He sat her on a chair in the War Room, carefully undoing the leather chestpiece she wore and sliding it off her as she hissed in pain from the slight movement.  
  
“Don’t feel ashamed.” He said to her as she pouted.   
  
“I can’t even ride a damn horse out of the gate.” She growled. “Is it possible I’m the worst soldier in your command?” he smiled at her with a twinkle in his eye as Adaar, Josephine and Leliana walked into the room like a quiet storm.  
  
“It is very possible.” He teased as he rotated her arm slowly in preparation to pop the joint back in. “Does it hurt?” he asked, knowing full well that it did.  
  
“No more than I deserve.” She grumbled and Leliana walked to her other side, bracing against Ivy so she wouldn’t shift as Cullen fixed her joint. He looked at the Spymaster and then Ivy who gave one quick nod and tried to relax, a quick shove and an explosion of pain made her squeak before it eased, Cullen folded her arm to her chest, standing to find something to strap her arm with.

Adaar looked on with a glare, arms crossed under her breasts.  
  
“Someone needs to explain what is going on. _Now._ ” She growled and Josephine approached looking just as angry. Cullen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before quickly looping a long cord of fabric around Ivy’s neck and easing her arm to rest in it, a makeshift sling until she was released from the room. “ _Commander_ ,” Adaar insisted, “why does the Qunari ambassador think that your captain is a Seer?”  
  
“Because she is.” He replied reluctantly before straightening his shoulders and facing the Inquisitor with perfect posture and a blank face, he was not going to be intimidated it seemed. “Volkev was in service to the Qunari at Kirkwall as a Seer.” Ivy felt all the eyes in the room on her, looking her over as if to find a lie. “When the Qunari sacked the city I helped her escape to Ferelden, Alistair hid her for years before I called her to Haven.”  
  
“A Seer?” Josephine asked, unsure of the word. “As in, a prophet?”  
  
“I don’t spout religion.” Ivy said with disdain. “Just have visions.”   
  
“You were one of the first soldiers we recruited.” Leliana said slowly as if she were holding back anger, Ivy didn’t want to see her angry, didn’t want to fathom it, it scared the shit out of her. “We could have used this information from the beginning. Anything you knew.”  
  
“It doesn’t work like that.” Ivy said and Leliana gave her a look that inferred that she had better explain how it did work and quickly. Ivy sighed and scratched at her head, wincing when it pained. “I know some things,” she began, “events, names. No dates, don’t bother asking about _when_. But it’s only one outcome, there are infinite possibilities remaining that could happen if anything leading up to the event is altered.”   
  
“Altered how?” Adaar asked.  
  
“For example? Someone telling you the future.” Ivy replied. “It doesn’t have to be much to change, I’m not a _Seer_ , more of an estimator.”  
  
“Tell them about the Arishok.” Cullen suggested and they looked to her. Ivy nodded.  
  
“Without interference, the Arishok was always going to arrive in Kirkwall. There were two outcomes; he would take the relic and Isabela-”  
  
“Who is Isabela?” Adaar interrupted.  
  
“The pirate that stole the Qunari relic a few years back.” Leliana supplied before waving Ivy on to continue.  
  
“With the relic and Isabela he would have left Kirkwall without further bloodshed. Or he would be refused Isabela and he would fight Hawke, die and the Qunari retreat. But,” Ivy swallowed thickly, she hadn’t spoken about this, hadn’t thought of Kirkwall in a long time and it still pulled something awful in her soul, “I interfered. I thought I could convince him to leave peacefully with the relic before things became critical in the city. But instead he got Isabela and the relic and decided to stage a war into the Free Marches from Kirkwall.” She hung her head and scrubbed at her face with her free hand, her head was pounding an exhaustion settling over her and she knew it was the concussion trying to get her to sleep. “Hawke cut him down, I thought he was dead by the time he reached the boat. He was never supposed to be here. Was supposed to be some elf called Gatt instead.”  
  
“Why did you not return with him?” Adaar asked and Ivy stilled, a tremor passing through her hands. Cullen stepped to her quietly and placed his hand on her shoulder in comfort.  
  
“She doesn’t have to answer that.” He said flatly. “It’s not pertinent to our situation.”  
  
“The hell it isn’t.” Adaar said angrily, her hands were gesturing wildly and she looked ready to hit someone. “You saw the way he looked at her when she was dragged in, there is no way that he’s going to agree to any of our terms unless _she_ is a part of one. So if I’m going to put us on the line, put one person before the _entire_ Inquisition I need to know _everything._ ” She yelled, uncaring if anyone outside the room could hear.  
  
“It’s alright, Cullen.” Ivy said and he wandered off and rubbed at his neck in stress. “The Arishok claimed me, as his, early on. It was a show of power.” She stuttered through the sentence, her cheeks burning slightly and her eye fixed on the floor. “But it developed into more than that in Kirkwall.”  
  
“You were lovers?” Josephine asked somewhat stunned and Ivy nodded once, regretting it when her head panged with pain.  
  
“If I returned to Par Vollen I would have been taken by the re-educators, part of the reason he chose to stay in Kirkwall was to prevent this, I think in his own twisted way he was trying to protect me.”  
  
“He would raze the city and murder to protect but he still left you bruised and scarred.” Cullen scoffed bitterly from the other side of the room before walking back to her. “Ivy risked her life to warn us, conspired against the Qunari in the years leading up to the attack. She has already proven herself there and here with the Inquisition. We cannot give up one of our own to the Qunari.”  
  
“It is not just a matter of protecting her,” Josephine said, “and before you get snippy with me, Commander, I agree, we cannot give up one of our own to the Ari- uh, Beresaad. We would look weak, without honour and willing to relent on our promises, not to mention our soldiers would strongly disagree. But we had no idea someone of such abilities were among our ranks, she has had access to our messages, orders-”  
  
“I have done nothing to hurt the Inquisition, I have not interfered.” Ivy said in exasperation.  
  
“I believe you.” Josephine reassured her. “But some will see us as foolish, wasting potential, and others will see us as easily corruptible. No matter the truth, the rumours that came out of your time at Kirkwall were powerful. We need to spin this to our advantage.”  
  
“What do you suggest?” Adaar asked her, somewhat calm again.  
  
“We need to show that we were in control at all times, convince them we knew she was enlisted from the beginning. Perhaps have Alistair announce that she was sent to us as aid from Ferelden? No, no maybe not.” Josephine paused and touched the quill feather to her nose in thought.  
  
“Anything you want to get Alistair to do needs to be written in short, simple words.” Leliana joked and Cullen snorted derisively.  
  
“Perhaps for now we simply state that you came to us offering aid, asking to be stationed with the soldiers for safety. Being the only Seer in Thedas would put you in danger of course. But being revealed in front of everyone means you’ll have to _shed the disguise_ so to speak, you’ll have to be elevated to an advisory status, attend court and whatnot.”  
  
“Would it work?” Adaar asked disbelievingly.  
  
“It would have to be a show- change the clothing, Ivy’s outward personality – make everyone believe that she was truly wanting to hide from the world. As for the Beresaad, I do not know how to dissuade him from negotiating for you, we will just have to be doubly careful, but you were never a part of the initial bargain and your standing as an Inquisition advisor will make it difficult for him to give us something worth handing you over for.”  
  
“He does not have the authority he used to.” Ivy said quietly. “If he does not get his way he cannot authorise an attack, only the Arishok can do that.”  
  
“Yes,” Leliana agreed, “but there are other ways to retaliate, and as we know he is a dangerously intelligent man. Under his leadership as Arishok the Qunari had great success. Not to mention that you are a fugitive from the Qun and if I’m remembering correctly, if you are the Seer that fought beside the Arishok in Kirkwall, you are a fugitive in the Free Marches too.”  
  
“You bought a fugitive into my ranks, Commander?” Adaar said dangerously and Cullen straightened his back in defiance.  
  
“With all due respect, Inquisitor.” He said carefully, a thread of anger in his voice. “Ivy was a Captain in our ranks before you were our prisoner.”  
  
“It is a risk, yes.” Josephine said hoping to ease the growing tempers, “But do we really want to give someone with the power of foresight to the Qunari? Inquisitor, it _is_ ultimately your decision.” Ivy looked up to the Kossith woman and wondered why the fate of her life always landed in the hands of them. Adaar glared at her, arms still crossed under her bosom and her snow white hair cascading down her shoulder.  
  
“Did Iron Bull know about this?” Adaar asked with a low and frightening voice and Ivy wasn’t surprised at the question, she hesitated, she didn’t want to get Bull in trouble, but lying right now would only worsen her situation.   
  
“Bull was the first person to know of my abilities in Par Vollen.” She said flatly and Adaar’s jaw clenched, she breathed through her nose in long draws of air and seemed to quash the anger that was raging.  
  
“Should there be a time that we call upon your services, you _will_ assist us.” She said bitterly. “I’ll not risk our mission here, if you do not help us, we will not help you. I would gladly hand you over to the Beresaad, you understand?” Ivy nodded once.  
  
“Understood, Inquisitor.” Adaar turned on her heels and left the room, throwing the door open with a bang.  
  
“Well,” Josephine said lightly in another attempt to relieve the tension in the air, “let’s get our show ready. Uh, will you be able to, how do I put it, _prove_ your abilities if needed?” Ivy laughed bitterly, controlling her visions was only the most painful and intense training she had ever undertook.   
  
“It will not be an issue, Ambassador.” Ivy said and Josephine smiled, scribbling on her clipboard with a hum.

 

Once she was released from the War Room Ivy made her way through side passages and along the battlements to her hidden room. She opened the door to find her small fireplace burning and Iron Bull sitting on the edge of her bed. As she entered he stood, stepping to embrace her and she held up her hand to stop him, his blank expression calculating.  
  
“It’s been a trying day.” She said shakily, chest tight and stomach churning, “I want nothing more than for you to take me to bed but I have to ask.” She looked at him and he nodded once, as if giving her permission. “Did you know he was alive?” The question was a bare whisper and the silence that followed it put her teeth on edge.  
  
“Yes.” He said simply and she felt her emotions surge to the surface, tears threatening the corner of her eyes. She drew a ragged, involuntary breath as she turned from him, her hand raking through her hair painfully. “But I was not aware that he was Beresaad.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked exasperatingly, he stepped forward to comfort her and she stepped back angrily. “No, don’t try to distract me. I’m in a lot of pain, I’ve been humiliated in front of all of Skyhold, _everything_ I’ve worked for in the last few years, all the hiding and secrecy, has just been swept to the side and the one person I thought I could trust has been keeping secrets from me.” She nearly yelled as he watched her calmly. “So god dammit, Iron Bull, _answer me._ ” He sighed and scratched at his stubble, looking about the room.  
  
“I wanted you to think he was dead.” He said quietly. “I didn’t want to risk losing you again, so whenever you talked about his death I just… didn’t correct you.”  
  
“Lose me?” she asked incredulously. “Bull, you were never going to lose me to the Arishok, Beresaad. Whatever he’s calling himself. But lying to me is a good way to do it.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Ivy.” He said as she paced her small room, hand over her eyes as she shook. “But I do not think I was wrong in hiding this from you, his presence affects you and you can’t deny that.”  
  
“I’m _scared_ , Bull.” She screamed at him before catching herself, a sob breaking in her throat and he gently pulled her to his chest, making comforting noises as she tried to regain control of her breathing. “I can’t- I can’t do it again. If Adaar gives me to him I-” he hushed her and pushed back her hair gently, kissing her.  
  
“She wouldn’t dare turn you over.” He said reassuringly. “Aside from how rare your abilities are and how stupid she would have to be to give up someone so important to the soldiers here, Cullen would never allow it, _I_ would never allow it.” He met her eyes and grinned. “I’d bust your ass out of prison and we’d be on our way to Antiva before they’d know their pants were down.”  
  
“I was running away.” She admitted to him and his arms tensed, his grin falling away. “I was going back to Ferelden when I fell off my horse.”  
  
“It’s probably bad for me to say that I’m glad you’re awful at riding.” He half joked before pulling her head against his chest again. They were silent for a moment, holding on to each others presence as the realisation sunk in that they had come so close to being separated again. He sighed and kissed the top of her head and she felt him inhale the scent of her hair steadily “I didn’t know he scared you, I’m sorry.” He apologised.  
  
“You’re supposed to be Ben-Hassrath, how could you not know?” she jibed and he let out a sigh, his hand running up and down her back comfortingly.  
  
“Let me get you something to knock out the pain,” he said reassuringly while steering the topic away from his failings, “I’ll stay here tonight.” She shook her head.  
  
“No, I don’t want to be addled.”  
  
“I’ll have the Chargers posted outside of your door, I’ll be here, if anything did happen you’ll be well protected.” He kissed her and she reluctantly agreed. “Good, into bed with you.”

He yelled from the doorway at Krem, who was waiting in the storeroom patiently with the rest of the Chargers, he gave them his orders and Krem handed over a vial of pale green liquid.  
  
“They were waiting outside?” she asked him as he sat on the edge of the bed again, kicking off his shoes and shucking off his clothes.  
  
“I had them follow you from the War Room, didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, they like you.” He propped his greatsword up by the desk, easy to get to if he needed it in a hurry. He stood and dragged her bed further into the room while she lay on it, giving space away from the wall at the head of the bed so he could lay on his side and his horns wouldn’t be in the way, just hanging off the edge of the bed. He tucked himself in beside her, back to the wall, Ivy remained on her back and tried to keep still. He held up the vial so she could see it.  
  
“What is it?” she asked warily.  
  
“Distilled Dawn Lotus and Elfroot.” He said, wriggling out the cork with his thumb and forefinger. “It will numb the pain and help you sleep.” He held the vial to her lips, pouring the contents into her mouth carefully when she parted them and he followed it with a kiss. “Go to sleep Kadan, I’m not going anywhere.” She hummed in response as the potion put her to sleep almost instantly.

 

When Ivy awoke she could hear Krem and Bull talking by the door.  
  
“A Sten came by a few hours ago.” Krem reported to Bull. “Seemed quite interested in the area, asked if they were lost but they just kept walking.”  
  
“Not surprising.” Bull grumbled unhappily. “Maybe we should move her, set up temporary quarters somewhere.”  
  
“I doubt you’d find anywhere hidden enough, seems to me she’s got that down pat with this little alcove of hers. Besides, anywhere we guard in the middle of the night is going to stick out.”   
  
“I’d rather the guard than leave her unwatched.”  
  
“Surely this Beresaad wouldn’t try anything within the walls?” Krem asked disbelievingly.  
  
“His first priority is the alliance and sending information back to the Arishok.” Iron Bull said. “But he’ll try to negotiate Ivy into the deal.”  
  
“Boss,” Krem said warily, “are we watching Ivy to protect her from this guy, or are we watching her because you’re worried of what he used to mean to her?”  
  
“You’re watching her because that’s the order I gave you.” He said dangerously and Ivy could almost feel the eye roll Krem gave.  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Krem drawled before waving Iron Bull off. Bull shut the door and turned to see Ivy sitting up, her hair a masterpiece of tangles as she watched him.  
  
“I’m surprised you woke up so early.” He said and knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing along her thighs pleasantly. “Thought that potion would have had you out for half the day, already told Cullen you’d be unavailable for your shift.”  
  
“Don’t let this conversation fool you.” She said as she blinked sleepily. “I’m pretty certain I’m dreaming.” He smiled at her and let his hands continue to trail along her thighs comfortingly, her heart ached to see him act protectively. “Bull,” she said quietly and he gave her his full attention, “isn’t this dangerous for you? I mean, if Beresaad finds out you knew where I was the whole time, let alone, you know, how I feel for you-” Iron Bull’s hand went to her cheek in a calming move to ease her concerns.  
  
“Don’t worry about that.” He said steadily. “I will handle it.”  
  
“But what happens if he does find out?” she asked, anxiety prickling along her spine despite his attempt to keep her calm.  
  
“Beresaad does not have the authority to either give me orders or question my methods. The most he can do is report me to the Arishok and that would mean reporting your presence, which I don’t believe he is intending to do just yet.” He shook his head. “No, if the way he looked when he saw you counts for anything, he won’t be rushing to have you arrested.” He pulled her forehead to his and she held back a nervous sigh. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, don’t you?” He asked quietly and her lack of response made him pull back and look her over calculatingly.

Her heart said yes, she should trust in him and his methods until Beresaad is gone, but her mind kept tripping over the fact that he knew that Beresaad was alive. She couldn’t resolve that action through the excuse that he gave, that he didn’t want to lose her, and following quickly on the heels of that thought was another – he was Ben-Hassrath. He was Qunari.

Ivy felt the creeping familiarity that in order to stay safe she had to be of value to someone and she pushed it back, resolute in her determination to be able to live and defend herself. He waited patiently for her answer, seemingly aware that she was processing her thoughts. She looked over his form, the scars on his body, the way he knelt in front of her, he never used his size to intimidate her, he was always cautious and gentle in his actions and she never felt scared of him. The man in front of her was the kind of man she should always strive to be with.

_Qunari. Ben-Hassrath._

She shoved those thoughts away and bumped her forehead against his again, her hands moving to slide over his shoulders.  
  
“I know.” She said quietly, she believed he would protect her even if it meant doing something terrible. “But I’m not asking you to be my knight in shining armour.”  
  
“I don’t understand the saying.” He said with a curious smile.   
  
“I’m saying I need you to work _with_ me, not ride to my rescue every time something happens. We can’t give Beresaad an inch.”  
  
“Stay away from him and I will simply do my duty, if we give him nothing he will have nothing to work with.” Bull replied and Ivy nodded. He pulled her forward in a kiss before gently helping her stand, the shoulder still somewhat painful. “Josephine has asked you to report as soon as you’re awake, she’s got something planned for you.” Ivy sighed and tried to crawl back into bed but Bull held onto her waist and laughed, the rich sound of his laughter easing her worry.

 

Ivy was escorted by Bull and Krem to Josephine’s quarters where the diplomat was talking to a flamboyantly dressed woman in Antivan. Before leaving her to her fate Bull kissed her forehead and told her he would be writing reports for the morning. She knew that Bull would be having to give reports to Beresaad about Skyhold and even though she knew he was safe in terms of rank – since the Beresaad did not have the right to command the Ben-Hassrath – the thought that he would be reporting about the Inquisition, about her, made her feel sick.  
  
“Be careful.” She whispered to him and he smiled at her, a confident smile that reinforced her faith in his skills.  
  
“I will.” He said as he leant down to kiss her properly however Krem cleared his throat before he could. “What?” Bull said tiredly.  
  
“Maybe best not to kiss the love interest of the man you’re about to report to. We don’t know if the Sten are still watching her.” Krem said quietly and Ivy smiled at Bull’s pissed-off expression.  
  
“Krem’s right.” Ivy said. “Better keep things under wrap.” His eyebrow raised at that and he smirked.  
  
“A secret affair? How exciting.” He said teasingly before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Tonight, then.” His hand reached sneakily across and pinched at her behind which made her squeak before he turned and walked away with a smile on his face.  

What followed was a couple of hours of Josephine playing dress ups with Ivy as the doll. Since the only clothes Ivy owned were meant for mobility and practicality they were not considered good enough and had to be replaced with corseted monstrosities.  
  
“Ambassador,” Ivy interrupted when Josephine was ogling something frilly that the woman held up, “while I appreciate that this is meant to be a _show_ perhaps it would be for the best that I don’t look like the noblewomen? If I have been trying to hide and survive it may help if it looked like I could do it no matter the situation.” Ivy tried to persuade her and she thought on it, nodding slowly as a thought came to mind.  
  
“Yes,” she said quietly, “you’ve been a soldier, surviving and fighting for your freedom.” She was excited, the image of some kind of swashbuckling wanderer dancing along her mind’s eye. “You would not turn to such luxuries now. You need something different, something to stand you apart. Marcelle-” Josephine turned to the woman who was looking just as excited. “We must rethink this.”

 

It was nearing sunset when Ivy escaped back to her quarters, her hair had been put up high in a bun and Josephine had a bit of fun applying make-up – something that Ivy hadn’t worn for years – before she sent her away with a formal outfit with orders to report to the throne room on the seventh bell, there would be another ceremony tonight, one to announce Ivy’s status in the Inquisition along with a month long celebration that would hopefully provide the Inquisition with some solid alliances and she had to be suitably prepared for it.

Cullen caught her in the warehouse and smiled at her sympathetically when he saw Ivy’s tired expression, without a word and merely a gesture of her head Ivy invited him in.

“A month of celebrations.” Cullen said as he took in the scattered drawings along Ivy’s makeshift desk and floor. She had definitely made good use of this room, dragging in crates and planks to construct a desk and shelving. “I’m certain Josephine is doing it just to spite me.” Ivy knew he hated politics and actively avoided it, he especially hated the women surrounding him and flirting, though it amused everyone else to watch him flounder when he was usually so confident.  
  
“At least you can use your work as an excuse to leave.” Ivy said, staring at the dresses that Josephine had dropped off to her, all extremely regal and a pain in the ass to put on. They were ordered in the days that she was required to wear them, an absolute waste of money. “And people won’t try to touch you as much as they grab me, I’ll be great entertainment for them.” Cullen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her with an apologetic smile.  
  
“Are you alright with this? I mean, Adaar is putting you dangerously close to Beresaad.”  
  
“It’s not that so much.” She said quietly. “It’s just-” she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” He stepped forward and knelt in front of where she sat on the bed, his hands gathering hers.  
  
“Tell me,” he said softly, “or it will annoy me for the rest of the week.” He smiled at her and the scar on his lip shifted, Ivy had a pang of regret that she wasn’t there for him when he got it.  
  
“It feels the same.” She laughed bitterly. “I’m being dressed, told what to do, how to act. Adaar wants to use my abilities on her whim, it feels like being in the Qun all over again.”  
  
“You want to leave?” he asked slowly, his voice careful not to show any emotion.  
  
“No, not that.” She shook her head. “I believe in the Inquisition, I _know_ you are doing the right thing, and I will do anything to help the cause, I’m just not looking forward to being the _pet seer_ again.” She squeezed his hands and stood, shaking off the negativity of her thoughts and walking to the desk, she turned and smiled at him. “But no matter, onwards and upwards.”

 

The throne room was simply decorated and buzzing with nobles, many more than were at the court proceeding the day before and Ivy glanced behind her to look longingly at the escape the main door provided. She was wearing the formal outfit that Josephine had left her and it reminded her of the scout uniform, just without armour and with a large hood. The dark fabric was a greyish blue and had a small Inquisition insignia embroidered on the hem of the tunic. She had added a belt and sword even though Josephine didn’t mention anything about being armed, it didn’t look bad with the outfit and Ivy certainly wasn’t going anywhere without at least a sword. The boots were comfortable and tall, stopping just above her knee which definitely helped against the cold air and they made a solid noise against the stone – which caused the nobles to glance at her before gossiping to each other.

Cullen stepped up behind her and gave her a reassuring smile, offering his arm which she took nervously. From what Ivy could gather they were going to continue with the proceeding that was halted yesterday before any other announcement and Ivy had to be to the side of the throne in case she was called forward.

He led her through the crowd and left her with Varric who was chatting to Dorian by the side wall of the room and a few steps from the throne. Varric gave her a wink and a reassuring bump of his shoulder against her side before continuing his conversation with the mage.

Trumpets sounded and the crowd parted for Adaar to walk through and sit on the throne gracefully and a moment later the Beresaad followed, sitting on the chair that was reserved for him the day before. He sat casually and glanced around the crowd, when his eyes fell on Ivy he didn’t move or nod – just looked forward again.  
  
“Thank you for your patience Beresaad,” Adaar said and Beresaad nodded to her once, his elbow resting on his knee to prop himself up comfortably, “Shall we continue from where we left off yesterday?” He nodded again and Adaar raised her hand, gesturing for Tomen to be brought in.

A minute passed and Tomen was walked in by two guards and forced to kneel before the throne, his countenance much more subdued than the day before and it was evident in the way his shoulders hunched and he didn’t bother about moving the hair from his eyes.  
  
“Tomen Vellhorn,” Adaar began, “yesterday you admitted to the charges laid against you, I have no interest in dragging these proceedings out any further and so will hand over your sentencing to Beresaad.” Adaar looked to Beresaad curiously and he barely hesitated in his answer.  
  
“The Qun has no intention of bringing you back for re-education.” His voice was firm and it sent chills down Ivy’s spine. “You are sentenced to death. I request that the Inquisition facilitates this before the prisoner is given the chance to escape again.”   
  
“Of course.” Adaar said with a nod and waved her hand for Tomen to be taken away again, his face was blank and reservation flashed in his eyes. Ivy felt guilty for not feeling sympathy for him.

Adaar straightened in her chair after Tomen was taken away, her hand to her lips in thought for a moment before she spoke.  
  
“Ivy Volkev,” Ivy’s stomach churned in apprehension, “step forward.” Ivy walked the few steps to stand where Tomen was just kneeling and bowed deeply, ignoring the murmur of the crowd and the intense stares of the people she faced.  
  
“Inquisitor.” Ivy said respectfully and straightened up, her shoulders back and hand resting casually on the hilt of her sword.  
  
“After the events of yesterday there has been many rumours circulating about your service here.” Adaar said and it almost sounded like a practiced speech. “I believe these rumours should be laid to rest before they get out of hand. To begin with we will establish your identity; are you, or are you not, the Seer who served the Qunari during the invasion of Kirkwall?” Ivy glanced to Cullen who gave the briefest of nods.  
  
“I was converted to the Qun and served the Qunari until their defeat in Kirkwall.” Ivy said flatly and a wave of chatter echoed around her.  
  
“Where did you go after that?”  
  
“I served King Alistair of Ferelden, placed among the King’s Guard.” Ivy replied.  
  
“You were among the first to offer aid to the Inquisition, before I became the Herald of Andraste, and worked closely with Commander Rutherford to build the beginning of our cause.” This part was fabricated at least in the sense of her offering aid instead of being recruited, but Ivy confirmed it anyway. “You have visions.” Adaar stated.  
  
“Yes, Inquisitor.”   
  
“Explain to our audience why you have been in hiding until now.”   
  
“I am the only Seer that I am aware of, my gift is volatile and valuable and I do not wish to put myself or others in danger over it. I remained in hiding to prevent harm to the cause and myself.” Ivy spoke clearly, a miracle considering how her nerves were running amok.   
  
“Explain your relationship with the Beresaad.” Adaar demanded and Ivy paused, she did not think that this should be a part of the proceeding.  
  
“I served Beresaad when he was the Arishok.” Ivy said simply.   
  
“Why did you not return to Par Vollen with him?”  
  
“I believed he was dead.”  
  
“Were you not loyal to the Qun?” Adaar said quickly and Ivy hesitated, wondering if the questions were a trap to doubt her loyalty to the Inquisition.  
  
“The Qunari saved my life, I remained with them until I believed the Arishok was dead.”  
  
“So you were loyal to Beresaad.” Adaar pressed and Ivy nodded. “You were lovers.” Ivy stared at Adaar blankly as the crowd grew excited in their murmurs.  
  
“Inquisitor,” Beresaad interrupted, “this is not a discussion for a court, I ask that you respect the privacy of both the Seer and myself.” Ivy looked to Beresaad in surprise, unbelieving that he would bother to speak up like that.  
  
“My apologies, Beresaad. I was merely trying to establish that Volkev was loyal to you, not the Qun, and that her defection to us would not be unusual.” Beresaad didn’t reply, just stared at Adaar for a moment before looking back to Ivy. Adaar leaned back and crossed a leg over her knee, picking idly at the fabric of her robe and Ivy watched her with masked anger. Adaar intentionally brought up Ivy’s past with Beresaad, but for what reason Ivy couldn’t figure out – if Adaar wanted Ivy gone she could merely demand it.

“I understand,” Adaar said slowly and clearly, “that you have made a great contribution to our military. There are few soldiers here that you haven’t healed or fought beside and the Commander has expressed his reluctance to remove you from your position as Captain.” Ivy glanced to Cullen who watched on tersely from his position to Adaar’s left. The Inquisitor’s voice softened as she spoke, as if she were remembering. “You saved my life in Haven and the lives of many of our people, because of this I am denying Beresaad’s request to return you to the service of the Qun – unless you wish to return?”  
  
“My place is with the Inquisition.” Ivy said flatly and Adaar nodded once.  
  
“We never intended to reveal your gifts.” Adaar said, the lie coming forth subtly. “But since it has been done there is no need to conceal you among our ranks anymore. Your gifts and talents are more useful as an advisor and so I have decided to remove you from military service and retain you among my council.”  
  
“As you wish, Inquisitor.” Ivy said and bowed to her, a wave of Adaar’s hand dismissed Ivy who returned to the side to stand with the crowd.

Josephine stepped forward and announced the plans to celebrate for a month, inviting nobles and royalty from around Thedas – who were apparently already on their way – and an excited cheer rose from the crowd at the idea of a month long ball. Ivy caught Bull’s gaze from across the room and he gave her a quick half smile. She breathed deeply and squared her shoulders, it would be a month and Beresaad would leave. Just one more month. She could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much conversation!   
> I loved all the reactions from the last chapter, especially all the swearing and screaming. <3


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You were dead.” She spoke in barely a whisper. “I mourned you."

The throne room was mesmerising, candles lit and strung crystals hanging from the ceiling, tables lined up along the wall offering food and drink as musicians played in the far corner. It was the Inquisition’s statement to all the visiting dignitaries, screaming out _we’re going to save the world, and do it in style._

Ivy walked in, waving off the announcer who began to say her name, she didn’t really want to have the attention as she walked in and it kept in line with her apparently new personality. Her breath was constricted in the dress, far too much cleavage showing for her taste as the neckline plummeted like a dagger to her sternum, some kind of witchcraft working to keep her breasts supported and preventing an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. She had the fur of a wolf draped around her shoulders to stave off the cold and possibly to set herself apart from the other women who were adorned with clusters of feathers.

Her hair was high in a bun, the curls carefully placed to look haphazard as they cascaded down her neck and framed her face which went through the hell of make-up trials, Josephine eventually choosing the whole smokey-eyed Antivan style. But what annoyed her the most about the dress was that the sides were missing, a cut from her rib to her hip on each side meant that her skin showed prominently, her tattoo even more, before the deep green satin - which shimmered beautifully with candle and mage light – waved and gathered at her hips in a full length skirt that reminded her of the French dresses from the 1800’s complete with a bustle, though not as prominent as what they wore back then. She had asked Josephine if she was missing a part of the dress and just got a tight smile and ‘ _oh, sweetheart no’_ as a response. Thankfully the back covered her branding, she would not have stepped out if that were on display. 

Solas walked up from behind, stopping next to her and half-smiling in greeting. They hadn’t overly talked much since arriving in Skyhold but were connecting with their mutual distaste for the grand event before them. He offered his arm to escort her the rest of the way and she took it reluctantly.  
  
“I’m not armed.” She confessed to him in a whisper. “I feel naked.” He chuckled and turned to her, leaning in to whisper, probably more for show of the few who noticed them rather than the need to be quiet.  
  
“Are you wearing boots?” he asked mischievously.  
  
“Actually, yes.” She said. “Why?”  
  
“Pretend I’m doing something, I don’t know, _gallant_.” He said with a smile before kneeling in front of her and fiddling with the hemline of her skirt as if he were helping her, she held her hand delicately to her chest and watched the elf kneel in a show of appreciation of his chivalry and quickly, faster than she would have expected, he transferred a dagger, sheathed in leather, from his own boot to hers and smoothed the hem of her skirt back in place. No one had noticed and no one suspected as he stood and smiled, she took his arm again and thanked him.  
  
“I hope I haven’t left you defenceless.” She half teased and he smirked.  
  
“I’m a mage, Seer.” He chided. “I’m always armed.”

He escorted her to the throne where Adaar sat greeting dignitaries with a look of boredom. She curtsied deeply as Josephine had taught her while Solas bowed and Adaar nodded in acknowledgement before they moved to the side of the room.  
  
“Not so bad,” Solas said, “as pointless and time consuming affairs go.”  
  
“Thank you again.” She said and he half bowed to her.  
  
“No thanks needed, especially since I am returning to my books now.” He said with a smile and she gave him a confused look. “The thing about being the vagrant elvhen mage is that I only have to make an appearance at these things. My condolences, I fear it’s going to be a long night for you.” Ivy laughed and nodded.  
  
“A long month.” He turned to go and paused before turning to her again.  
  
“Perhaps you should come by the rotunda sometime, I feel that there is a lot for us to discuss.” He said with a blank expression and Ivy gave her pleasantly-blank face in return.  
  
“I look forward to it.” She said lightly and he left to make his way through the chatting crowd and out of the hall. She wasn’t looking forward to it. Not at all.

 

Cullen pried himself away from a group of nobles apologetically before making a too-obvious stride to Ivy who smiled at him in amusement.  
  
“You look flustered Commander.” Ivy teased and poured wine into a goblet before handing it to him. He _did_ look flustered and pale, his cheeks a bit more hollow than usual as he smiled tiredly at the wine.   
  
“The security logistics of protecting just about every damned noble in Thedas is staggering.” He complained as he sipped the wine and scanned the room. Ivy poured one for herself and drank with a sigh, the both of them looked like awkward teenagers at prom. Trumpets sounded and the crowd turned to see the important dignitary who arrived.  
  
“Maker.” Cullen muttered to Ivy. “Here we go.” Ivy followed Cullen’s look to see King Alistair of Ferelden making an entrance, clad in deep blues and what looked like amazingly supple riding boots he strode down the hall to stop before Adaar who had risen from her throne to meet him at the base of the platform, a sign of respect. Everyone knew that Alistair disliked politics, possibly didn’t even want the crown, and he exuded that as he bowed to the Inquisitor.  
  
“King Alistair.” Adaar said smoothly as she bowed in return. “You honour us, we thought not to expect you here.”  
  
“Well, I was going to send Teagan.” He spoke casually in his somewhat nasally voice. “But I couldn’t stand to let him have all the fun. Besides, this threat we face is spreading across the world, and the _world_ should respond.”  
  
“Well said, your majesty.” Adaar schmoozed and he smiled sideways at her, his silver crown glinting in his golden hair as he looked about the audience.   
  
“Maker,” Alistair said happily as his eyes fell on Cullen, “that you Rutherford?” he walked over and they shook hands, looking eerily similar in their formal attire. “Strange to see you surrounded by mages instead of Templars, well, not that strange really.” He said quietly to him and Cullen sighed, a glimpse of the exasperation that Alistair would bring him for the duration of his stay.  
  
“Your majesty,” Cullen said flatly though with warmth. “The Queen not with you?”  
  
“Maker no.” Alistair drawled. “Something about a highly important ceremony for the noblewomen.” Alistair glanced at Ivy idly and back to Cullen and frowned, looking back to Ivy with confusion turning into realisation.   
  
“Ivy?” he asked quietly and she smiled tightly at him, curtsying deeply before looking up at him.  
  
“My King.” She responded and he bowed in return, setting the nobles on edge as they gossiped about the interaction. He held his hand out for hers and she placed it in his carefully, letting him help her stand before he brushed his lips to her hand. He kept a hold of her hand, resting it gently by his chest.  
  
“You look-” his gaze raked over her subtly before he cast his eyes to the ceiling. “Cold.” Cold is the word he finally settled on. _Cold._ “Aren’t you freezing?”  
  
“I find the Antivan Brandy helps, My King.” She said with a smile and he laughed, remembering the same advice that he gave to her years ago. Cullen cleared his throat and gained the attention of Alistair, although he didn’t want to give it.  
  
“Perhaps it would be wise to greet the other dignitaries first, your majesty.” Cullen said with a hint of annoyance and Alistair reluctantly let go of Ivy’s hand.  
  
“You spoil all my fun Rutherford.” Alistair jibed before walking to the next nobleman, it was going to take him all night to greet the people and listen to their schemes and complaints, he must hate stepping outside of his bedroom.

 

Ivy slipped out of the main door quietly, she wasn’t permitted to leave early technically being one of the main causes of gossip, but she did so anyway. She needed air, away from the grabby noblewomen who wanted to spark a vision of their futures and the leering men who found her dress simply _fascinating_. She hated it, knew she would. Quickly and lightly walking down the stairs she ducked into the small archway beneath it, it was out of the sight of the guards and guests, hidden in the shadows and a perfect place to get her breath back. When her stomach stopped churning and blood boiling she would try again but for the moment the archway provided a wonderful reprieve. The scrape of footsteps sounded to her right and she was reaching for the dagger in her boot before she knew it, a dark figure approached, but a moment later she recognised Bull’s grinning features.  
  
“Escaping the limelight?” he teased in a whisper and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  
  
“I can’t do a month of this.” She said and he stood in front of her as she leaned against the arch wall, his horns nearly scraped the tallest part of the brickwork and he hunched automatically to pull her into his arms.  
  
“It won’t be that long, after a couple of nights they’ll find something else to fascinate them. Nobles have a very short attention span.” He reassured her and bent down, cupping her jaw and leading her lips to his in a deep kiss.  
  
“No scandals.” She reiterated Josephine’s warning and he smiled, shaking his head carefully.   
  
“None, I promise.” He lied as his lips worked their way to her neck, her sigh escaping in a long release of tension. His hand gently ran along the expanse of her exposed skin and she shivered, a breath catching in her throat and he growled, quiet but demanding. He inhaled the scent of her skin in a long reverence and sighed, stepping back away from her completely. She looked at him with a pout and he shook his head.  
  
“We should stop,” Bull sighed, “the Beresaad will never leave your side if he thinks there is a threat to his claim on you.”  
  
“Tonight?” she asked and he nodded.  
  
“As soon as you are released. I’ll be in your bed waiting.” He said with a smirk and fished out a flask from his pocket. He handed it to her and she opened it and sniffed, some kind of rye whiskey, likely to be rough on her throat. She took a sip and struggled to not cough, it was like fire before moving down into her stomach to pool in a glowing warmth. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up and offered to hand the flask back but he held is hand up signalling for her to keep it.   
  
“Stay here for another ten minutes, have a few sips to get your liquid courage and then go back. Leave the flask on the ground and I’ll grab it tonight.” He caressed her jaw with his thumb and smiled before quietly ducking out of the archway.

 

It was nearing midnight, had to be. The gathering ended at midnight and Ivy couldn’t wait, she watched passively as the nobles all drank too much, flirted with everyone and had arguments. A month of this. Thirty days. Maker preserve her.  
  
“You’re that Seer, yes?” She looked to her left where a portly Orlesian noble spoke to her, he was wearing one of those masks that made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t understand the reasoning behind it and thought the Ferelden way of just being outright with each other was much more appropriate. Did the Orlesians court each other like that? Do the couples even know what their husbands or wives look like?  
  
“Yes, Ser.” Ivy responded politely, that was all she was doing tonight, responding politely and hoping they would go away. He wobbled forward and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He held out one gloved hand as if she had to kiss his ring, waving it at her he took another drink of his and demanded in an arrogant voice.  
  
“Tell my future.” He said loud enough that the close groups of nobles turned to watch the interaction. Ivy stayed still, glancing at the hand and back to the mask, her spine straight and proud, no matter who this man was, she was not going to be ordered by him.  
  
“No.” she said simply and turned to walk away when he stumbled forward and snatched her wrist in a painful grasp.  
  
“How _dare_ you.” He sneered with his voice and Ivy glared at him, remaining still and obvious to bystanders that she was not attacking or provoking him in any way. “Do you know who I am?” the age old question that the self-important seemed to use endlessly.   
  
“No.” she reiterated, making it clear that she also didn’t care. There were people murmuring to each other now, some faces and others masks. Ivy felt scrutinized, she was trying to not hurt the Inquisition’s reputation, but she probably was.  
  
“I am the _Compte_ Du-” his voice was cut short as Beresaad stepped into his space, looking down at him with thinly veiled anger and putting a large hand on his shoulder. Beresaad directed him away from Ivy, the Orlesian releasing her now that his attention was on the Qunari.  
  
“You should show respect to your betters.” Beresaad simply said and released the noble, sending him stumbling back a few paces.

The audience giggled as the flustered noble stumbled away quickly to disappear into the crowd and probably complain to poor Josephine. Beresaad turned to Ivy and said nothing, instead bowing once to her respectfully before walking away as she returned the gesture with a bow of her own. He walked calmly into the hall, the people parting and watching as he did.

 

Once the bell sounded for midnight Ivy waited along with everyone else until Adaar left the hall and not a moment later she was stealing through the side passages and along the battlements until she reached her tower, descending the stairs into the storeroom and through the hidden door to her quarters. She placed the wolf pelt on the small chest of draws carefully before turning to the fire and bringing it back to life with the few pieces of wood she had left in the basket, she noted to herself that she had to remember to get some more tomorrow otherwise she’d be freezing, a downfall to refusing to sleep in the barracks with the other soldiers she supposed.

A light knock and Iron Bull was walking through the door of her room, smiling at her while he shifted uncomfortably in his formal attire.  
  
“Maker bless whomever made that dress.” He said lowly as he walked over to her. “You look like a goddess, I haven’t been able to take my eye off you all night.”  
  
“Tease.” She said to him. “I hadn’t even _seen_ you all night and then you come and rile me up under the archway.”  
  
“I couldn’t help it,” he said and began to unbutton his tunic, “after seeing you curtsy to the King, the way the light complimented your cleavage.” He growled in his throat, a sound of primal appreciation. She giggled as he shrugged off the tunic, throwing it casually on the dresser with the wolf pelt.  
  
“I think you should help me out of this dress, Bull.” She purred and he grinned, his hands running over the back panel of satin.  
  
“I think you should keep it on, Kadan.” He replied before ushering her backwards to sit on the bed. He knelt before her, hands sliding up her legs and pushing the green fabric with it, bunching it along her hips as he kissed up her inner thighs.   
  
“Next time,” she gasped as he bit lightly at the fabric of her underwear, taking no preamble in getting what he wanted, “you decide to accost me under the archway, at least have the decency to finish what you begin.” She teased him and he laughed lazily, hooking his thumbs under the sides of her smalls and pulling them down slowly until they were on the floor beside him. He kissed back up her opposite thigh and nipped at the flesh, lifting her leg to hook over his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smile.  
  
“You never would have stayed quiet enough.” He teased and leaned down to kiss gently at her sex, her hum of appreciation turning into a gasp as his tongue flicked out.  
  
“You’ll have to find a way to keep me quiet then.” He growled at her words, delving deeper to lap at her lazily and bring her other leg to hook over his other shoulder, gripping her hips he dragged her closer to his mouth as she felt him shift beneath her, the tell-tale sound of buttons popping and Ivy knew by the movement of his left shoulder that he was taking care of himself. She bit her lip and felt her excitement heighten as his large hand rested on her abdomen, lightly warning her not to buck or writhe while his sharp teeth were so close to something so delicate.

He looked up at her as she reclined and she lifted one hand to lightly trace over the edge of the plummeting neckline of the dress, mesmerised by the action he watched her with a growl, the reverberation against her clit making her gasp and drop her head back as her body tensed and relaxed under his care. Slowly she ran the finger along the edge again, peeling it back to let her breast slip out. As she repeated the action on the other side Iron Bull growled long and deep, pulling back for only a moment to rasp out a warning.  
  
“Don’t tease me, Kadan.” He said before sucking at her clit and laving his tongue against it.  
  
“Tease?” She said breathily and smiled. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t teased me earlier.”  
  
“Then tell me,” he moaned, “What should I have done?”  
  
“You should have forced me to my knees.” She purred in a low voice and he growled against her, his strokes becoming longer as he worked himself. “Have me suck you while people celebrated metres away.” He moved his free hand and gently pushed his finger into her, delicately stroking upwards to stimulate the oversensitive spot inside of her. She gasped and her hand reached out, gripping lightly at the base of his horns which coaxed a loud moan from him.   
  
“That still just teases you.” He rasped and she hummed, she was close, her hips moving in small circles involuntarily.   
  
“I would have taken care of myself,” she gasped, “Just as you are now.” His attentions became relentless and soon she was trembling, hand clawing into the mattress as she shuddered and came with a whimper. He eased her down, kissing her over-sensitive sex as the afterglow settled in.

Gently lowering her legs back onto the floor he stood up and pulled her towards him, she reached up and took his shaft in hand, kissing and licking at him until he was breathing heavily. Taking him into her mouth he twitched and groaned, his hips bucking twice before he was coming into her mouth and she was swallowing down the salty-sweet fluid as fast as she could.

Eventually he pulled away with a satisfied groan, leaning forward and pushing her down onto the mattress, making her laugh as he rested his full weight on her.  
  
“We’re keeping the dress.” He said with a content smile.

 

Bull roused her in the morning to let her know he would be down at the training yard and that he would leave someone outside her door. She groaned in response, not really awake, and he kissed her head before sneaking out of the room.

She awoke a few hours past dawn, an absolute luxury of a sleep in, and flung the fur back with a huff. Bleary eyed she stumbled over to the tiny window which had a pitcher of water and bowl on a small table and poured the water into the bowl. Something dropped out of the pitcher as the water poured and Ivy had to blink to focus on what it was. She picked the object out of the bowl and smiled. It was a hot-rock, a rock that was enchanted to stay warm. Bull must have placed it in there knowing she’d bathe when she woke up.  
  
“You cute old cow.” She said as she smiled to herself and put the rock back into the bowl, the water was warm, steaming in the cool air of the room and she rummaged for a cloth.

Singing to herself she bathed, taking her time now that she didn’t have to report to anyone. It almost felt like a waste of time and she considered asking Cullen to give her some work on the sly, surely if she were in full armour, hood up and masked she could go incognito for a while. Soldier by day, begrudging entertainment for the nobles at night.

The sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps entering made her smile to herself, Bull was back from training and probably appreciating the sight.  
  
“You’re back.” She said as she ran the cloth down her arm. “I hope the troops are still intact.”  
  
“Kadan.” Ivy jumped, spinning quickly and knocking over the half full water pitcher onto the floor. Standing in her room was Beresaad, looking at her with a half-smile as she pressed herself up against the table, the corner biting into her thighs.

She felt overly vulnerable, no armour or even clothes, she had a moment of grief over whether she should reach to the left for her shirt or the right for her sword, his small step forward forced the decision and she lunged for the sword, unsheathing it and holding it threateningly between the two of them.   
  
“What are you doing here?” She asked calmly and he gave her a measured look as she kept him at bay with the weapon.  
  
“I wanted to see you.” He said simply. “It has been years, am I not allowed to speak to the woman I love?”  
  
“What happened to the guard at the door?”   
  
“He is unharmed.” Beresaad said as he looked curiously at the pieces of paper on the walls. “Merely distracted. But that you feel you need one to protect yourself from me is telling, Kadan, I would not harm you.”  
  
“Well I’m sorry but I can’t help feeling a little on edge, what with being a wanted criminal under the Qun.” She said sarcastically and he nodded once in understanding, his gaze raking over her body and she had a second of wishing she’d grabbed the shirt instead.   
  
“You thought me dead.” He said quietly and his hand traced the rough wood of her desk and touched softly at her belongings.  
  
“I did.” She agreed. “Maybe, while we’re here, you can explain to me how you survived.”  
  
“Will you not lower your weapon?” he asked with a tight smile as he flicked open a small box on the desk.  
  
“No.” she said flatly and he hummed in unappreciation.  
  
“I was dying as they took me to the ship.” He said quietly. “I couldn’t move, the last thing I can remember of it was you striking down a Bas and ordering the Sten to go. Then I was awake and we had been sailing to Par Vollen for over a week.”  
  
“You couldn’t have survived that wound.” Ivy said disbelievingly. “The blood loss alone-”   
  
“Do you doubt what you see?” He asked and raised his eyebrow to her before going back to sifting through her things. “The Healers worked tirelessly, and they were successful in preventing my death.”  
  
“Then why are you here as a Beresaad?” Ivy asked, her arms were growing tired, the lactic acid building up in them.  
  
“The pirate.” He said flatly. “She escaped our custody as we restocked in a foreign port. Without the thief I had failed my duty, I had lost the criminal and our only Seer.”  
  
“You had the relic.”  
  
“Which is why I was not executed. I was court marshalled, the decision being that I be demoted to Beresaad. Regardless of my failures I still had skills valuable to the Qun, and my faith in it remained unwavering despite what they saw as a degenerative influence from you. And so I was no longer the Arishok.” He flicked open the last box and paused, Ivy cringed knowing what was inside of it.

“But I did not stop looking for you.” He almost whispered as he reached in, pulling out the long leather cord which held the tooth, holding it almost reverently in his palm. “It has been so long and it pains me to see your fear of me. But I understand.” He looked to her with serious eyes, glancing at the blade of the sword as if he were tempted to try and disarm her. “I was not deserving of you in the end, I let my anger consume me and you would feel the brunt of it, but you remained by my side.” He held the necklace up, gently looping it over the blade and letting it go to slide down the metal until it reached the hilt. “You were good to me when I was not good to you. I will prove to you that I am a better man than I was.” He said with conviction. “When I leave Skyhold, it will be with you by my side.”

More footsteps sounded in a rush and a moment later the Inquisitor was standing in the room, Stitches, one of the Chargers, was guiltily peering around her and Beresaad turned to bow respectfully.  
  
“Beresaad.” Adaar said sternly. “This area is off limits to those not of the Inquisition.”  
  
“I apologise.” He said before calmly walking out of the room, they watched him leave and it wasn’t until he was out of sight that Ivy lowered the sword. Adaar looked her over once before shaking her head.  
  
“Put some damn clothes on.” She said in annoyance before leaving the room.

 

The drink in front of her was called Charlie, Ivy named it because she had been nursing it so long that it had reached puberty. The tavern around her was loud, the mid-afternoon seeing the end of a sentry shift and some soldiers were coming in to relax, have fun and possibly win some money from visiting soldiers while they could. Ivy raised the tankard to her mouth and when she lowered it she saw Varric taking a seat in front of her, leaning against the table as he waved his hand at the barman. One of the perks of being in the inner circle, didn’t have to get up for your drinks.   
  
“I heard the Beresaad paid you a visit.” Varric said quietly before smiling at the barman who placed a tankard in front of the dwarf. “You going alright?”  
  
“Fine.” Ivy said curtly and Varric just stared at her until she sighed and let some of the tension out of her shoulders. “Okay, not _fine_.”  
  
“He didn’t hurt or threaten you did he?” Varric said carefully and she shook her head.  
  
“No, just talked.” Ivy took a sip and sighed. “While I was naked and threatening him with a sword.”  
  
“Josephine will have a field day over that.”  
  
“Adaar came in time, but the conversation was pretty much over when she did.” Ivy shook her head and laughed bitterly. “Not how I thought today would go.”  
  
“What did Bull do?” Varric asked and Ivy shook her head again.  
  
“I haven’t seen him.” Varric raised his eyebrows at that and Ivy lowered her voice. “Beresaad can’t know about us, it would be too obvious if Bull came running every time.”   
  
“Well, the troops are already holding back on the gossip mill about you two, no one is talking to the Qunari at all actually. No one trusts them.” Varric said before leaning back and taking a drink. “Let’s hope they can keep it up for a month.”

 

The dinner celebrations passed without incident and Ivy went to sleep alone, Bull keeping his distance even though it wasn’t what either of them wanted. Pulling on clothes she woke up and went to the training yard determined to keep herself busy and didn’t return to her quarters until noon that day.

The moment she stepped into her quarters again the room felt off, as if the air had been stirred and disturbed. She took careful steps into the room and saw the red wrapped square object on her desk. The package was unassuming, simply wrapped in a burgundy cloth which stated just who it had come from. Ivy looked around nervously for any other signs of someone in her quarters but didn’t find anything obvious. Cautiously she picked up the object, the carefully wrapped cloth soft under her fingertips and falling away easily as she turned it over.

It was a book, leather bound and old, barely bigger than the spread of her hand as thick as her finger. She opened it, the first page showing a detailed drawing of a Spindleweed plant and handwritten notes in Qunlat about how to apply the plant to medical uses. The book was filled with these handwritten notes, detailing each plant that Ivy had heard of and some she hadn’t and after the section was completed it began to list recipes for healing teas, potions and all kinds of medical applications. She closed the book and paused, upset that Beresaad would know what she would appreciate even after all this time. She sighed and put the book on the desk, intending to return it to him as soon as possible.

She found the Beresaad in the library looking over the collection of old maps they had, most of them dated and useless but she knew he had a fascination for those kinds of things. He was tucked away at the back in a small alcove and Ivy had a moment of hesitation before wandering into a concealed area alone but she shrugged the wary feeling off and stepped forward.  
  
“Beresaad.” She said calmly and he looked up, standing when he saw her and smiling tightly. She held up the book, wrapped back in the burgundy cloth, and placed it on the desk in front of him. “Thank you, but I cannot accept this.” She said and he looked down to the object curiously.   
  
“I thought you may reject such a gift.” He said simply before stepping forward and plucking it off the desk. “Was it not to your liking?” She looked away from his calculating gaze and shook her head.  
  
“It wasn’t that, but I cannot accept gifts from you.” She said a bit flustered.  
  
“Perhaps it was a bit assuming, I can imagine that your current situation does not lend itself to being flexible with Qunari influences.” He stepped forward and unwrapped the book, placing it on the nearby bookshelf. “I will donate it to your Inquisition, that way you can have access to it without being seen as a conspirator, especially since you are likely one of the only people here who can read Qunlat, I would not want to get you into trouble.”  
  
“But you knew all that anyway.” Ivy said carefully, her own calculations running through her head. “Knew that even if I were willing to accept the book I wouldn’t be able to.” He looked at her passively, a small smile playing on his face. "And knowing that I would seek you out to return it.” She said with a sigh and he nodded once.   
  
“I wrote that book over years of study,” he said casually as he stepped closer to her, “I hoped you would like it, but even if you didn’t it was a small thing to give up in order to be able to speak with you again.” Ivy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  
  
“And now when I leave this secluded area, people will know that I dropped off what looks like a gift to you alone. At best the rumours will be that we met in seclusion, at worst it would be that I’m conspiring with you which would only spur Adaar on to consider handing me over to you in the negotiations.” Ivy said bitterly.  
  
“Adaar is infatuated with Iron Bull.” Beresaad said flatly. “And I know the passions of Kossith women, removing you would give her easy access to him.” Ivy felt anxiety weigh on her chest, they had been taking careful measures to ensure Beresaad didn’t know about her relationship with Bull, but the way he was talking implied he already knew. He paused and gave her a measured look, she was working hard to keep her face blank, to hide how rattled she was.  
  
“Adaar is a powerful woman.” Ivy said flatly. “No one would stand in her way if she were to pursue Iron Bull.”  
  
“Except Iron Bull himself.” Beresaad replied and the tight knowing smile he flashed her had traces of amusement. “The two of you are close, even after so long apart. He may not be with you often but his mercenaries guard you day and night, follow your every move.”  
  
“It is not unsusal for a Ben-Hassrath to spy on me given my… history with the Qun.” Ivy spoke, her voice soft and Beresaad stepped closer, barely a metre away from her as he judged her carefully.  
  
“True.” Beresaad agreed and sighed, looking to the floor in an almost human gesture. “But it is more than that. Ivy, tell me the truth, are you and Iron Bull lovers?” Her chest felt heavier and she shook her head, she wasn’t going to endanger Bull like this.  
  
“We are friends.” She said and he nodded once.  
  
“Iron Bull said the same but he is a skilful liar. I am relieved to hear you confirm it.”  
  
“Why are you doing this?” She said lamely and his hand gently reached out to graze at her forearm which she pulled back to be out of his reach. “Even if you _won_ me, going back to Par Vollen would just mean we would be separated.”  
  
“If you were with me, I would not return.” He said flatly and Ivy couldn’t believe what he said.  
  
“You would be Tal’Vashoth.” She barely whispered and he nodded once, unhappily. “You couldn’t do that, your belief if the Qun is-”  
  
“What made me lose you in the first place.” He suddenly stepped forward into her space and she stepped back only to bump up against the bookshelf. “For the first time in a very long time I am unable to comprehend what my movements would be, I know I am willing to leave the Qun if you were by my side because it is certain that taking you back would only mean your death. There are lands which are unexplored by the Qunari and they are the only places we could go to be safe, the Ben-Hassrath would not tolerate our defection. But knowing all this, that it would be a life rife with hardship I am still willing to do so.” He clasped her hand suddenly, his bulk almost towering over her.

“Kadan.” He whispered. “I invaded a city for you once, please know I would do anything necessary to ensure you’re safely by my side.” She glanced between his intense gaze and their clasped hands, unbelieving of what he was saying. It was so far removed from the fanatic that scared her and her mind was screaming that it was a lie.  
  
“That is not a life I would willingly choose.” She said quietly, carefully pulling her hand free from his. “For either of us.”  
  
“I won’t let them execute you.” He referred to the Qunari and she shook her head.  
  
“You’re not listening.” She said with frustration. “I’m not going back to the Qun, I’m not going back with you. I am serving the Inquisition now.” She stepped to the side and straightened her shoulders, meeting his stare without flinching. “I don’t appreciate being the subject of your games, this stops now. Please do not enter my quarters again.”

 

The garden was quiet and that was what Ivy wanted more than anything else at that moment. Dressed in a formal version of a scout’s uniform she sat in the gazebo with her hood up, one foot on the bench and another on the ground as she leaned back on the cushioned bench with a book in hand. The weather was getting warmer in other parts of the world but in Skyhold it just meant the sky was clear and the sun shining, the air itself was still cold but despite this the gardens flourished.

She sighed contentedly and turned the page of her book – one of Varric’s romances although she would never admit to him that she was reading them, when it came to Varric’s writings she was in Cassandra’s camp, secrecy and quiet giggling. It had barely been two days since being ‘promoted’ but Ivy had begun to feel lost without her duties as a soldier, reading and training taking up much of her time now, but she didn’t receive any animosity from the troops here. If anything they gave her clear support in keeping her with the Inquisition, often asking her to run drills and for her opinion on small things, Ivy would oblige but then be redirected by Josephine to simpler tasks more befitting an advising Seer.

Her fears of becoming a pet for her abilities were still there, ever present when the inner circle, council or the Inquisitor herself asked if she had any input to a situation. Cullen would refrain, he already knew her feelings on the matter and respected them, but the others did not hold back at all.

She shook her head and realised that she had scanned two pages without reading it, turning the pages back she pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes shut, a headache was slowly worming her way through her temples.  
  
“Kadan.” Ivy looked up to see Beresaad standing at the entrance of the gazebo dressed formally, his robe open to bare his chest to the cold air, the lack of armour did nothing to soften his image, even without knowing him someone could tell he was a warrior by just looking at the way he stood.

Ivy closed her book and stood, walking past him carefully and he looked to the ground where she had been a moment before.  
  
“Beresaad.” She said flatly in greeting and if she didn’t know better she could have sworn he winced at the tone of her voice.  
  
“Will you not even speak to me?” He asked quietly and the painful tone of his voice stopped her mid step. She stared out at the garden, a step behind where he stood. It was quiet, nearly deserted of people but a few nobles were still sunning themselves not to mention the guards that watched like hawks. Her chest tightened unexpectedly and was not welcomed, she should be feeling nothing but anger towards him.  
  
“I would not know what to say.” She admitted and he turned to face her with a small frown on his face. “Except perhaps remind you that I am not interested in your manipulations.”  
  
“I am sorry, Kadan.” He said quietly. “I use the tools I know but I will refrain in the future. I do not seek to place you in danger.”  
  
“But you would happily twist the opinions of people around me.” Ivy bit back. “I fought hard to be here, to be safe in hiding while we fight Corypheus.”  
  
“You should not have to hide.”   
  
“I had no choice Beresaad.” She hissed and he watched her calmly. “You didn’t exactly make it easy after Kirkwall.”  
  
“You did not have to run.” He countered calmly and she felt frustrated, her throat constricting tightly.  
  
“You were dead.” She spoke in barely a whisper. “I _mourned_ you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to you now?”  
  
“Then we will not talk, we can be content in each other's company as we were years ago.” He said and she risked a glance to see a tight smile on his face as his hand reached up and gently brushed at her arm, her skin shivering at the contact. But she hated that it wasn’t a shiver of revulsion.   
  
“This happiness,” she said shakily as her heart sped up, “was it before or after you would hurt me?” she said spitefully and his hand dropped away as if her skin burned to touch. He looked to the ground between them, the silence growing.  
  
“Nothing I could say would be enough to gain forgiveness, to show you how much I regret my actions.” He said quietly.  
  
“You’re right.” Ivy said and walked away.  
  
“I will show you through my actions Kadan.” He called to her as she walked faster out of the garden.

 

She found Krem training with the other Chargers in the training yard, her heart was still pounding and hands shaking from her encounter with Beresaad, she could feel the beginning of a panic attack and desperately needed Iron Bull’s logic and calm to help her.  
  
“Krem.” She said and the mercenary looked at her curiously. “Have you seen Bull?”   
  
“No ma’am.” Krem replied. “I think he’s in a council meeting. Are you alright?” Ivy nodded and waved the question away. “You sure? You’re damned pale.”  
  
“Ivy!” She turned to see Alistair jogging up with a smile on his face, he was dressed in training leathers and had a sheen of sweat on him, his grin was bright and she was glad to see him. “Come train with me.” He insisted and she shook her head, she couldn’t fathom training to exhaustion right now even if the distraction was needed.  
  
“I can’t.” she said with a smile that did nothing to convince Krem of her health. “Another time, My King.” She turned on her heels and walked towards the tavern, intending to weather the panic with a drink or three.

It was at the bar with a shot glass of something potent in front of her that Alistair caught up and leaned against the wooden surface of the bar, watching her as she lifted the drink to her mouth and threw the contents back down her throat.  
  
“Your Majesty?” The bartender asked, a bit confused at seeing people drinking in the morning and Alistair spared him a smile.  
  
“Another two, please.” Alistair said and the bartender complied, lining up the shots before Alistair put one in front of Ivy and picked up another for himself. “Well I take it the problem isn’t that you’re with child otherwise you wouldn't be drinking.”  
  
“Maker.” Ivy muttered to herself. “Can you imagine me with a baby?” The sentence implying that she would probably accidentally drop it within five minutes.  
  
“I can.” Alistair gave her a sideways smile and raised his glass as she glared at him. “To drinking away our problems.” They both drank and Ivy held her hand up for another round, the barman raising his eyebrow curiously at the two as he poured. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”  
  
“Nothing to worry about.” She said flatly and Alistair shuffled in closer.  
  
“I know a panic attack when I see one.” He said as he put the drink in front of her. “You know you can talk to me.” Ivy felt her throat constrict and wiped at the tear that was threatening.  
  
“I’m not sure if I could explain it.” She almost whispered.  
  
“Maybe I can deduce what it is.” He said playfully trying to lighten her mood. “The Beresaad cornered you in the garden and you exchanged words. Maybe good, maybe bad.” Ivy looked at him and he winked.  
  
“You weren’t there.” She said.  
  
“No, but your troops are surprisingly loyal. One followed you from the gardens and I intercepted them.” He said flatly as if it were a common occurrence. “I might grin like an idiot most of the time but I do have my moments.” He said and Ivy laughed dryly, nodding in agreement.  
  
“It’s only been a couple of days.” She said softly and met his eyes. He was silent, letting her take her time in speaking. “I thought I could wrap myself in some kind of self-righteous anger and put up with his presence here but… I’m finding it difficult.”  
  
“Be careful, Ivy.” Alistair said and she nodded. “He’ll manipulate you if you let him.”  
  
“I know.” She said firmly. “I won’t let him.”

“Your Majesty.” A messenger called from behind them, Alistair turned to look at the woman without removing himself from the bar. “Inquisitor Adaar and the other dignitaries are awaiting your presence at the luncheon.”  
  
“Fuck.” Alistair muttered to himself and it brought a giggle from Ivy’s lips. He looked at her mischievously before nodding to the messenger. “Inform them I am on my way, and that I’ll be bringing a partner.” The messenger bowed and left leaving Ivy to look at Alistair dubiously.  
  
“My King-” Ivy said and he raised his drink.  
  
“It’s Alistair to you.” He purred. “Drink up, we’ve got a lunch to attend.”

 

It was in a secluded garden courtyard that the luncheon had been set up, smaller tables dotted the area and chaise lounges had been brought in to create an air of elegance and pride. Flowers drooped from every wall and column and a few butterflies floated through the air, the romantic part of Ivy’s mind stalled and had to reboot from how beautiful it was.  
  
“Forgive us!” Alistair called as they walked into the courtyard, Ivy’s hand on the crook of his elbow. “The fault is mine for being late.”  
  
“Not at all your Majesty.” Josephine purred as Ivy noticed the inner circle, council, nobles and visiting dignitaries lounging about and laughing, the wine flowing freely as they took a moment to relax. “I would suggest that it is your prerogative to be late and bring a surprising guest.” Ivy felt scrutinised as people turned to look at her, walking in with the King who was sweaty and probably on the verge of inebriation. _Maker fuck it all._

Alistair smiled to Josephine before half dragging Ivy across the courtyard, he idly picked a grape from the table and threw it up to catch it with his mouth before chewing and scanning the courtyard. He sighed with reservation before looking to Ivy and smiling.  
  
“Most of these nobles are Orlesian, but a few a Ferelden.” He said quietly to explain what was happening. “Trying to clutch at some of the power that the Inquisitor is oozing. They’re like parasites, feeding and poisoning.”  
  
“I get the feeling you dislike politics.” She teased him and he huffed a laugh.   
  
“That obvious is it?” he said sarcastically and Ivy pulled her hand from his arm, Alistair leaned against a column and crossed his arms while Ivy stood with her hands behind her back as if she were on duty. “They will try to befriend those close to the Inquisitor first – which to the _inner circle’s_ credit doesn’t work. Failing that they’ll schmooze and try to go through Josephine, or if they’re feeling lucky they will try the Commander.” Ivy spotted Cullen across the courtyard looking awkward and uncomfortable, a small group of women flirting at him as he kept shaking his head at their questions.  
  
“I doubt they’ll get far with Cullen.” Ivy said quietly and they both laughed. “And what are you here for Alistair?” She asked him coyly and he smirked as he shrugged.  
  
“The wine mostly.” He said with a smile. “Oh, and to escape the wife.” He sighed heavily and Ivy followed his gaze to see a portly nobleman approaching, his pointy beard and too large hat was bordering ridiculous but he held a serious air about him.  
  
“Your Majesty, might I interrupt?” The noble asked with a sing-song voice and Ivy could and sworn Alistair grumbled beneath his breath.   
  
“Of course, I assume you want to flesh out that trade agreement some more?” Alistair said as he shot an apologetic look to Ivy, she bowed slightly and smiled, letting him go to do his job.

 

Left alone in the courtyard Ivy glanced around and knew she looked out of place. She certainly felt out of place. She spied Iron Bull talking to a group of military men, his laugh echoing above the rumble of the ambient crowd noise. He caught her glance and gave a quick smile before returning to his conversation, no help there apparently. Cullen was still being corralled by noblewomen and any others that she may have at least had a conversation with were otherwise occupied. Even Blackwall was in an engrossing conversation with Cassandra.

Ivy slowly walked towards the entrance, meaning to escape and return to her book or find something more productive and less daunting than small talk to engage in. Like pulling teeth.   
  
“You are leaving?” Came the rumble of Beresaad’s voice and she looked to her left to see him holding two goblets of wine and looking her over curiously.  
  
“Yes.” She said quietly. “I lost the ability to partake in small talk long ago.”  
  
“I do not believe I ever had the ability.” He said with a half-smile. “These Bas are very adept at it.” He offered her the wine and she looked at it warily, the red liquid barely moving in his calm hold. Ivy noticed a few curious onlookers – or rather an entire audience of them – and swallowed nervously.  
  
“I- uh.” She began and looked to the entrance, so close but still too far away, Josephine would kill her if she was impolite to the guests. Beresaad smiled and leaned in closer, his voice only heard by Ivy.  
  
“Have faith, Kadan.” He whispered and Ivy tried to school her face to be blank. “If I was going to kill you it would not be poison, I would merely do so.”  
  
“That is… truthful.” It was frightening, but true. She reached her hand out to the offered wine, looking up to meet his eyes as she did, he smiled to her and passed it, their fingers touching.

The onset of surprise visions were never pleasant, but this one was like a jolt up her spine to explode in her head. She gasped involuntarily as her knees gave out and the goblet was dropped, Beresaad threw down his own wine and stepped forward to catch her as she slumped, her vision whiting out as she heard the Beresaad’s concerned voice calling her.

Wherever she was now it was nearly dawn, the hilly plains had trees clustered in small groups that were bending from the constant battering of wind. She heard the sound of approaching hooves and turned to look over her shoulder to see a massive black stallion approach with two riders. As it got closer she recognised the first, it was Beresaad in his armour with a smile on his face as he slowed the mount down at the crest of the hill that Ivy stood. The second rider who sat in front of him was a woman, the midnight blue dress she wore was unsuitable for riding and she held a fur around her shoulders to keep warm. Gently she reached up and pushed back the hood and Ivy gasped, her hand flying to her throat in apprehension. She was looking at herself, her auburn curls piled up high as the image of herself looked around warily, Ivy was watching herself be embraced by Beresaad as she practically sat in his lap.

He looked down at the woman in his lap and smiled, vision-Ivy looked up at him over her shoulder and reluctantly smiled back. Carefully, almost as if he were worried about being rejected he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips, earning a tight-sad smile from her.

Ivy shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind to pull away from the vision, it was like pulling an elastic band tight until it snapped suddenly leaving her gasping at the recoil and blinking at the curious onlookers who watched her in the courtyard. Beresaad was still holding her, his arms supporting her around her shoulders and at the small of her back, he didn’t let her fall or place her on the ground, he held fast, watching her with concern and curiosity. She felt her skin flush and she looked to the ground, the noble whispering to each other set her on edge and she hated to think about the rumours this would generate.  
  
“I apologise, Beresaad.” Ivy said diplomatically as she straightened up and he helped her stand properly.  
  
“There is no need.” He said with a small bow. “The burden of your gift should be shared by many others.” He looked to Cullen who was beside them watching carefully. “Do not fear, Commander. I would not harm your Seer.” Cullen just gave him a flat look before holding his hand out to Ivy which she took quickly, he pulled her forward, looking over her with scrutiny.  
  
“Are you alright?” Cullen asked, loud enough for the audience to hear, he was aware of them also.  
  
“Yes, Commander.” Ivy replied. “It is my fault, I should have been more careful.” She smiled at him and his expression instantly told her that he knew she wasn’t alright, that she was panicking and covering it very well. The only other person who would have known how she was really feeling was Bull and he was still on the far side of the room.  
  
“Seer,” Adaar called from the chaise she was lounging on, “did you see anything useful?”  
  
“Unfortunately I couldn’t make any sense of it.” Ivy lied with conviction. “If you will excuse me, I believe I should go rest for a moment.” Adaar waved her hand in permission and Alistair stepped up to her, taking her hand from Cullen.  
  
“I’ll escort you back.” He said with a smile and nodded to Cullen who reluctantly nodded in return.

 

Ivy’s grip on the King’s arm was tight but her limbs still shook as they walked out of the courtyard and through the hallways.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Alistair apologised for the third time. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I didn’t think.”  
  
“Maker, I can take care of myself.” She said in exasperation.  
  
“You’re shaking.” He said softly and she held her shaking hand up to wipe at a tear that ran down her cheek. “You’re crying, fuck.” Alistair pulled her to the side and into a small unused room, it was more out of luck that it was empty and unused, he wouldn’t have known what it was.  
  
“I just – need a moment.” She gasped and wiped at the tears that were flowing freely now.  
  
“What did you see?” he asked carefully and she just shook her head.  
  
“It’s not real.” She said as she sniffed and he put a hand on her side in comfort. “It’s all about the choices we make and I’m _not_ going to make that one.” She said with resolution and he watched her carefully.   
  
“I believe you.” He said flatly. “You’re as stubborn as they come, nothing that you don’t want will happen.” She sobbed a laugh and he sighed, pulling her close gently and comforting her with small circles on her back. “I’m not good at comforting people who are crying.” Alistair said awkwardly. “Tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.”  
  
“You’re doing fine.” Ivy huffed a laugh and sniffed, she stepped back and his goofy grin made her smile again.

The door opened quickly and they both turned to see Bull lean inside to check the room, once he saw them he stepped in and shut the door suddenly, striding up and wrapping Ivy in his arms. She let herself relax in his warmth, closing her eyes and leaning heavily against him.  
  
“You’re needed back at the courtyard, Your Majesty.” Bull said offhandedly as he kissed Ivy’s head and breathed in the scent of her hair deeply, she clutched at his arms and held on tight.  
  
“Of course.” Alistair said and began to move.  
  
“Thank you.” Bull said to him flatly without moving away from Ivy. Alistair nodded once and left them alone in the room.

 

Ivy was summoned to the war room the next morning by Leliana. She had been training but cut it short to make her way there, arriving quickly and knocking on the smaller wooden door that was built into the large ones. She was called in and she stepped forward to see the whole council there along with the inner circle. Adaar was leaning over the map, her arms wide as they supported her against the table and Leliana called her further in, asking Ivy for her opinion on the presence of troops in Emprise Du Lion, but Ivy knew Leliana was just wanting to know of any dangers to be avoided, anything that Ivy would know but the others wouldn’t. Ivy helped as much and as vaguely as she could much to the annoyance of the Inquisitor and the amusement of a few others and turned to leave before Josephine stopped her.  
  
“I had clear instructions to give this to you.” Josephine said with a wry smile as she handed a box to Ivy, it was white and unassuming and Ivy frowned at it.  
  
“From who?” Ivy asked carefully and Leliana stepped forward to watch the exchange with interest.  
  
“Beresaad.” Josephine replied. “It was quite interesting actually, he wanted me to be aware that _this_ gift had no ill intentions. It was the most I’ve ever heard him speak.” Ivy sighed and the expression on her face must have been telling because Leliana suddenly took the package from her, examining the edges of the box closely as if it were trapped.  
  
“How many other _gifts_ have you received?” the spymaster asked in a professional tone and Ivy felt like she was on trial.  
  
“One other, yesterday.” Ivy said and Leliana hummed, pulling her dagger out of her boot as she placed the box on the table carefully.  
  
“What was it?”  
  
“A book, I took it back to him.” Ivy sighed and raked her hand through her hair. “Stupid of me, I played right into it.”  
  
“What happened?” Bull asked carefully from where he leaned on the far side of the room.  
  
“We… talked.”  
  
“That all?” Varric asked with a shrug and Ivy nodded.  
  
“He’s playing a game, trying to fuel rumours and sway opinion of me. I got angry, I’m such an idiot. Should have thrown the book out of the damn window.” Leliana carefully cut the tie and lifted the box lid, staring for a moment before lifting out a pale green shawl, thick golden embroidery decorated the edges and shimmered in the light of the room. Vivienne stepped forward and touched it gently, an amused look on her face.  
  
“You don’t strike me as someone with expensive taste.” Vivienne said teasingly before bringing it over to Ivy who took it gingerly. The shawl _was_ beautiful and delicate, something Ivy would probably ruin in one night.  
  
“I’m not.” Ivy spoke and she sounded pained. “Ambassador, is it too much to ask that you return it?” Ivy was hopeful but Josephine’s decline wasn’t unexpected.  
  
“Beresaad is a guest here and possibly an important ally, I suggest you keep it.” Josephine said with encouragement.  
  
“Give it back.” Iron Bull said flatly without moving from the wall. “Qunari don’t give gifts like that, he’s playing at something. Give it to the Sten if you have to.” Josephine made a growling noise of disapproval.  
  
“Ivy,” Josephine said cautiously, “If you give it back do it in person.”  
  
“I’m not going to ruin your chances at an alliance.” Ivy reassured her and Josephine nodded once, giving Bull a glare for good measure. Ivy sighed and walked out of the room.

 

The gardens were still peaceful as Ivy walked through them clutching the shawl to her chest uncertainly, she could see Beresaad sitting on a bench in the sunlight and enjoying the little warmth it provided and Ivy struggled to recall any other moment where he looked as contented as he did now.

Dark eyes opened lazily as she approached and he gave her a soft smile, straightening up as she paused in front of him. She gave him a half smile, her original anger had fizzled out and left her feeling somewhat empty as she passed the shawl to him, he took it in both his hands, being careful not to touch her skin.  
  
“I had thought that this gift at least would be suitable.” He said simply with a smile. “I was clear in my intentions with Ambassador Montilyet, they could not have seen this as anything but a simple gesture.”  
  
“I appreciate that you went to those lengths to make the gift transparent.” Ivy said and her voice threatened to fail her. “And you made quite an impression with Josephine, but I still cannot accept.” He gestured to the space beside him on the bench and after a moment of hesitation she sat beside him, the silence between them only interrupted by the chirps of birds.  
  
“I wanted to apologise.” Beresaad said. “I fear I may have upset you when you had your vision at the luncheon yesterday, I did not intend to force one upon you.” Ivy’s chest tightened and she looked to him, seeing nothing untoward in his expression, nothing teasing or sarcastic.  
  
“It was my fault.” She wanted to end the conversation but a small part of herself wanted to reassure him, that part of her she pushed to the side as she swallowed thickly.   
  
“You were frightened by what you saw.” He said carefully and she gave him a glare to which he smiled before looking back to the gardens in front of them. “I would like to think that even now I am still able to tell your emotions and what I saw may have fooled the others, but I have seen you wear that expression far too often to mistake it for anything else.” He said bitterly. “I do not want to be the cause of such distress.”  
  
“I-” the sentence died in her throat and she looked down to the ground, she didn’t know what to say to him. Ivy felt flustered, confused. Hating herself for letting Beresaad affect her like this, for letting him spark turmoil in her.   
  
“I am at a loss.” He said quietly and Ivy looked to him questioningly, he smiled awkwardly at her before huffing a laugh. “In Par Vollen if you were interested in someone you would merely approach them and tell them the truth, when at war you value what little time you may have together and be forthright in your approach. Here the people put a high value on courtship, small talk, even as you fight a war. I do not know what I am doing.”  
  
“I don’t believe you.” Ivy said softly and he looked her over calculatingly. “I’ve never known you to be anything but confident in your actions, I think you are well aware of what you are doing at any given moment.” He smiled and she couldn’t help the tug of a smile from playing over her lips. He held the fabric in his hands and unfurled it, the green material shimmering in the sunlight as his thumb ran over the golden embroidery.  
  
“I got this years ago.” He said while holding the fabric up to examine it. “It was on a whim that I bought it, I remember thinking that- well, never mind what I thought.” His smile was wide as he remembered something. “But then the relic was stolen and we had to go to Kirkwall. I left it in Par Vollen. There is nothing hidden in this, it simply belongs to you and I will be stubborn enough to insist that you take it.” Ivy paused for a moment, meeting his eyes briefly before averting her gaze almost habitually. Before her mind had made a decision she nodded once and felt the soft, cool fabric drape around her shoulders. He smiled at her tightly before pulling away, leaning his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Thank you.” She said quietly and he hummed in acknowledgement.   
  
“Kadan,” he said lowly, his head only slightly tilted towards her as he leaned forward. “I hope you know what you are doing also.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked skeptically.  
  
“Your friendship with Iron Bull. He is Ben-Hassrath, fiercely loyal to the Qun by nature, should he or the Arishok deem it necessary-” he looked up to the balcony above them, scanning the rooftops. “Just one order could see him turned against you.”  
  
“I trust Iron Bull.” Ivy said flatly, almost insulted at the insinuation. “He has been a good and honest friend to me.”  
  
“I meant no offence.” He said simply before standing. “I have reports that must be finished before tonight, but I hope to talk with you again soon Kadan.” He walked away and left Ivy alone in the garden draped in the gift she had meant to return and she raked her fingers through her hair and swore under her breath.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I had known about your brand while you were still in hiding you would have ended up in one of my dungeons. Speaking a language is one thing, having their insignia burned onto your skin is another altogether.”

The dappled light hit the page of her book and danced around it gracefully, a mimic of the gentle swaying of the branches above her in the canopy and Ivy sighed to herself before shifting to become more comfortable on the tree trunk she leaned against. Down in the valley the snows had cleared despite the chill that lingered and so Josephine organised a picnic for the nobles, a break from the somewhat routine environment of Skyhold.

Varric dropped to sit beside her, checking the cover of her book quickly just in case it was one of his and leaned back to bite into an apple with a crunch. He looked around for a moment, taking in all the details of the guests and looking for scandals or anything he could spin into a story before giving up and watching Ivy in boredom.  
  
“If you are lost for something to do you could always go back to Skyhold.” Ivy said lightly as she turned a page. “Cullen and Leliana have already done so.”  
  
“They have work to do.” Varric said with a huff. “I just shoot at what I’m told.”  
  
“I can give you a couple of targets if you want.” She said quietly and Varric looked her over with a smug expression.  
  
“I would love to oblige, but I think your targets are a bit too high profile for me.” Varric said and pointedly looked in the direction of Adaar who was sitting by Bull and shamelessly flirting. Her hand moving to graze down his arm every third sentence as she looked up to him with wide eyes and a sultry smile. Ivy sighed sharply through her nose and brought her book up again, it would do no good if she was caught glaring at them both.  
  
“How long has it been since the two of you were alone in a room together?” Varric asked quietly enough so that he wouldn’t be overheard.  
  
“Just over a week.” She replied and shrugged, trying to hide her concern and jealousy. “And it’s not _that_ I miss, just being able to talk for more than one sentence would be nice. Or even a sign that what we are doing is working, I have no idea about these ridiculous games.”  
  
“You just need to hold out for a few more weeks.” Varric reassured her and she grumbled in acknowledgement, risking a glance to see Bull returning the attentions that Adaar was lavishing on him. Ivy snapped her book shut and dropped it on the ground meeting Varric’s reticent expression as he shrugged at her.  
  


“Seer.” Josephine crouched beside her and spoke in a hushed tone, she looked flustered and already regretting the idea of keeping a large group of nobles together for so long.  
  
“Ambassador.”  
  
“I need your assistance.” Josephine said in a way that meant that Ivy was going to regret providing said assistance. “Compte du Povir is arguing the merits of society free of the Qun… with the Beresaad.” Ivy glanced around and spied the slender older man speaking to Beresaad near the trees that edged the river.  
  
“He’s brave.” Ivy said.  
  
“He’s an ass.” Josephine corrected and Varric stifled his snorting laugh by clearing his throat. “I’ve tried to calm him but he’s relentless, if he keeps going Orlias might be finding themselves at war with the Qunari by the end of the day. Might you give it a try?”   
  
“That’s a tall ask Josephine.” Varric said cautiously and Josephine sighed.  
  
“It’s alright.” Ivy said with a grumble and stood, flashing Josephine a smile. “Just be aware that you’ll owe me a favour.” Josephine considered this briefly before nodding once and walking to another group of nobles to chat and gather rumours.

 

Ivy picked her way past the groups who were lounging on blankets and chatting happily and smiled at the few servants who were rushing around and filling up goblets with wine and mead. The Beresaad was quietly listening to the Compte who was nearly ranting now, his large arms folded over his chest as the older man gestured as he spoke.   
  
“Should someone want personal freedom, personal wealth they are prohibited under the Qun.” The Compte spoke, his accent flowed beautifully and it was clear that he was a politician by the way he articulated. “How are people expected to better themselves when restrained?”  
  
“There is less personal freedom, as you would call it, under the Qun but also freedom from poverty, from greed.” The Beresaad countered confidently. “While one amasses wealth they leave the others to starve, there is no such thing in the Qun. Each is afforded what they need to live and to provide for the community.”  
  
“But how do you allow for trade, for businesses to flourish and bolster your economy?”  
  
“When each person is provided for the economy remains stable. Trade is only conducted with those outside of the Qun when necessary, majority of the time we simply do not need to rely on trade as we are self-sufficient.” Beresaad said before nodding to Ivy who had reached the two of them, Ivy bowed to them and gave a general courteous smile.  
  
“Seer,” the Compte said as if to bring her into the conversation, “you have lived both with and without the Qun, which system is more beneficial in your opinion?”  
  
“Both has its merits Compte du Povir.” Ivy said flatly with the intention to remain neutral. “I believe it is simply a matter of what the individual person needs. Not all systems will suit all people.”  
  
“Did you flourish under the Qun?” The Compte asked and it was simply an honest question, no malice intended.  
  
“The Qun suited her greatly.” Beresaad said before giving her a knowing smile. “But the Seer is good at adapting to many situations, life outside of the Qun compliments her just as well.”

The Compte glanced between the two of them and smiled, offering his hand to Beresaad which he shook.  
  
“I enjoyed this little debate.” The Compte said. “I hope we can continue it at another time.” Beresaad nodded once and the Compte walked back towards the group, waving at a servant to bring him more wine.

“I wondered how long it would be until Ambassador Montilyet sent someone else.” Beresaad said with amusement and Ivy couldn’t help but return half a smile which she attempted to disguise by looking away from him quickly.  
  
“It would be bad for a war to break out while all the nobles are still on Inquisition soil.” Ivy said and he nodded once.  
  
“I will try to refrain until we are in foreign lands.” He smiled widely and offered his arm to her, intending to escort her back to the group. Ivy hesitated and watched him carefully out of the corner of her vision, the silence between them interrupted only by the calmly bubbling river. Looking back to him he merely waited patiently, knowing that for her to refuse there would have to be a good reason. _Diplomacy_ , she thought, _diplomacy sucks_.

She slipped her hand to rest on the crook of his elbow and he smiled to her, walking slowly with her towards the group.  
  
“It is interesting to see the Inquisition first hand,” Beresaad began, “the reports we received did not portray the determination of its people, I am impressed.”  
  
“There is much to fight for.” Ivy said simply. “Losing Haven reinforced the necessity of the cause for many and many more are arriving each day with their own stories of encounters with Red Templars or Venatori. What is happening out there, well, it seems superfluous to be holding a ball every night while our soldiers are dying.”  
  
“It was a smart idea to do so.” Beresaad countered. “Few saw the Inquisition as anything but an upstart movement grabbing for power in the wake of the Divine’s death. But by bringing together these people you are showing them what you are and what needs to be done, I have no doubt you’ll secure many alliances after this.”  
  
“Would the Qunari be among them?” Ivy asked and he smiled at her.  
  
“So far there has been no reason to refuse and more than a few to accept.” He said as they stepped up a small natural ledge to see the nobles proper. “But I can only give my recommendation, it is the Arishok who will make the final decision.”  
  
“Do you miss being the Arishok?” She asked, the curiosity getting the better of her, he paused in thought for a moment, mulling over his answer.  
  
“I find it frustrating when I cannot make decisions as I used to but the new Arishok listens well to council, something he learned from the Hero of Ferelden, but in the same token I am given more freedom to do as I wish as Beresaad, more time to reflect on what is important.”   
  
“The Hero of Ferelden?” Ivy asked and looked at Beresaad in confusion, they stopped barely a few metres away from the party. “Are you talking about Sten? Is he Arishok now?” Beresaad paused and thought again before nodding once.  
  
“I believe he was a Sten at the time yes.”   
  
“The one without horns?” Beresaad smiled and nodded.  
  
“The same.” He confirmed and Ivy huffed a surprised laugh. Sten was the Arishok now. That had to be a good thing right?

“I am glad to see you found a purpose here.” Beresaad said quietly, his hand gently resting on the top of hers that was hooked in his arm. “I was… concerned. Although I did not know if you were alive these past few years I was still worried you were in danger.”  
  
“I was too.” Ivy confessed. “But things happened so fast, suddenly it was years later and I was wearing an Inquisition uniform.”   
  
“It suited you.” He hummed with a smile. “If I could I would support you in this completely, but my own duties restrict me somewhat.”  
  
“Being a diplomat can’t be easy.” Ivy said and he gave her a sideways smile.  
  
“I can see why Iron Bull stayed here for so long.” Beresaad said quietly in a slight change of topic. Bull’s laughter echoed over the glade as Adaar stage whispered to him. “Inquisitor Adaar is relentless in her pursuit.”  
  
“She has the right to be.” Ivy replied. “She has sacrificed a lot to help Thedas, there is no point in being subtle when the world is on the verge of ending.”  
  
“He is a fool.” Beresaad said flatly and turning to her he picked her hand up and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Will you accompany me for the rest of the afternoon?” he asked uncertainly and Ivy gave him a sad smile and shook her head.  
  
“I have promised to help train new scouts.” Ivy said and he nodded in acceptance. “We’ll be running the walls, I should be on my way back already.” Beresaad held his hand out to the direction of the horses and escorted her to her mare, unhooking the reigns from the low branch and passing them to her after she had situated herself in the saddle.  
  
“Should your troops need it my Sten are willing to train with them, they are getting restless.” Beresaad offered and Ivy nodded, it would probably do the soldiers good to fight something bigger than themselves for once.  
  
“I’m sure the Commander would be happy with the offer.” Ivy said before urging her mare forward towards the road that led to Skyhold.  
  
“I will see you tonight at the dinner.” Beresaad said and she nodded once, kicking her horse into a gallop.

 

Watching the fresh batch of scouts trying to scale the walls of Skyhold was both amusing and frustrating.   
  
“We’re screwed.” Scout Harding said from beside Ivy as she watched on with arms crossed over her chest. “What’s that elf doing?” She pointed to an elvhen man who was dangling almost lifelessly from a hold on the wall, he wasn’t moving, just watching others as they tried to pass.  
  
“You know I always thought elves were graceful.” Ivy said as she palmed her face. “Then I met them.” She surged forward and yelled for the scouts to gather, she was going to have to get them through step by step.

Ivy ended up running the wall with them, showing the best ways to climb, how to free run over obstacles and stay silent all the while. After that she handed them over to a Major who was running sword drills and left to change out of her now filthy tunic and leggings.

 

Ivy meandered through the stables to avoid the chill in the air, the previously empty stalls were now all full with mounts as the nobles had returned from their picnic an hour ago. Movement in one of the stalls caught her attention and suddenly Bull stepped out of the stall that housed Beresaad’s stallion, dusting his hands together and stopping short when he saw Ivy. His smile was quick, barely noticeable before he turned and strode out of the stables leaving Ivy to wonder what he was doing.

“Captain.” Ivy turned to see a private salute her, the troops still were treating her as if she were military in an amazingly stubborn display of subtle defiance to the decision of Ivy’s removal, she smiled to him and nodded and the private relaxed.   
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Adaar requests your presence ma’am.” Ivy sighed and gestured for the soldier to lead the way, following him silently towards the castle. She would have to get dressed after whatever she was being summoned for.

 

Ivy arrived to a smaller meeting room which had Josephine, Adaar and Beresaad sitting at a table and surrounded by paperwork. Beresaad leaned back comfortably as he watched the two women flick through and discuss certain points of what looked like a treaty. Ivy approached and bowed to them and Adaar waved her closer, passing a piece of parchment to her.   
  
“Beresaad brought this to my attention earlier today.” Adaar said and Ivy looked over the missive that was written in Qunlat. “He claims it is a report of Venatori in Seheron, I need you to verify.” Ivy scanned the page, it was indeed a report on Venatori activity on the borders of Seheron written in Qunlat.   
  
“It is as he claims, Inquisitor.” Ivy said “Venatori activities observed by Ben-Hassrath on the eastern borders a few weeks ago.” Josephine put her quill on the stand and smiled at the Inquisitor and then Ivy.  
  
“You can translate fluently?” Josephine asked and Ivy nodded, the Ambassador’s smile grew satisfied. “We have agreed with the Qunari to share information in regards to Corypheus and they are sending through reports, unfortunately they are mostly in Qunlat. We need someone not of the Qunari to translate them as they come in.”  
  
“Of course, Ambassador.” Ivy said and Josephine picked up a stack of reports and handed them to Ivy.  
  
“You will need to work closely with Beresaad until he returns to Par Vollen.” Adaar said without looking up from the parchment she was reading. “I have organised an office for the both of you since you are both in need of somewhere to work.”  
  
“It is appreciated, Inquisitor.” Beresaad said.  
  
“As is the information you are giving us.” Adaar replied and waved at Ivy to leave.

 

Ivy was directed to a room near the diplomat quarters and given a set of keys, one to open the door and another to the draws of a desk that was set up underneath a tall window. The room itself was quite large with a few desks strategically placed around the room, a central fireplace divided the space and along with a few privacy screens it gave a sense of discretion. Ivy peered around one of the screens and spied Alistair working diligently until he felt her watching him and turned around to flash her a smile.   
  
“They finally put you to work?” he asked and she hummed in acknowledgement, taking in the stacks of paperwork on his desk next to a couple of bottles of brandy. It seemed that his drinking hadn’t slowed down any. “At least we’ll have each other to keep company.” He teased her and she huffed a laugh.  
  
“And Beresaad.” She told him and he made a distasteful expression.   
  
“Maker, what fun filled days that will be.” He drawled before turning back to his work.

 

Ivy got everything locked away securely before leaving to prepare for the night, going straight to her quarters to bathe and get dressed. It was getting close to dusk and she had little time before she was expected to be at the throne room and entertaining the guests.

The door swung open silently and she stepped into her room, locking it behind her so she could bathe without being interrupted. Her heart jumped into her throat as she turned, Bull was leaning back on her bed, smiling as he watched her.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a hushed voice as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
“I managed to lose the Sten following me.” He said with a smug satisfaction. “He’s been on my case for a week, every time I tried to come here I had to double back.” He held his hand out to her and she stepped past him, ignoring his hand and pouring water from the pitcher into the basin by her window. She heard Bull huff behind her and stand, walking over and placing his hands on her hips before bending to kiss her neck softly.  
  
“You’re angry with me.” He said and she grunted a response. “It’s just a few more weeks.”   
  
“And after that?” Ivy asked. “Adaar is stubborn, she will not give up the attention she’s been getting.”  
  
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Bull scolded and Ivy broke away from him, walking to the middle of the room before pacing back.   
  
“I know why you’re doing it, but you’re right. I _am_ jealous.” She bit and Bull scrubbed at his face with his hand. “I can’t lie like you can.”  
  
“You think this is any easier for me?” He growled as he watched her pace. “I have to watch him fawn over you, listen to him speak about you and pretend that I couldn’t care less.” He stepped into her space and held her shoulders to keep her from wearing a hole in the floor. “It kills me that the best thing I can do to protect you is stay away.”  
  
“I don’t need protecting.” Ivy sighed and leaned into this chest, letting his arms wrap around her. “I need _you._ ”  
  
“I know.” He said sadly and leaned down to kiss her, the stubble of his jaw scratching lightly against her skin. “It will work out. I promise.” He leaned her against the table and reached behind her to pick up the cloth form the basin, squeezing the water out with a smile. “In the meantime I think we can stand to be a bit late for tonight.”  He dragged the cloth along her waist slowly, sending a tightening shock along her skin followed by a shiver before descending to kiss her deeply.

 

She snuck into the throne room and sat by the fireplace that Varric usually haunted, the black skirt of her dress bunching up nicely as she tried to lean back while wearing a corset. The chaise lounge was not accommodating however and so she propped herself up as comfortably as she could, her spine rigidly straight. A hand touched at the chaise and she glanced up to see Alistair with a drink in hand.  
  
“You look like you just got fucked through a wall.” He teased and she fought to hold back a blush, fortunately no one was close enough to hear. He offered the drink to her and she took it, freeing his hands to quickly fuss at her hair and make her look more presentable.

He swiped another goblet from a passing servant and swapped it with the one Ivy held before sitting in a seat that was just to the right of her.  
  
“Did I miss anything?” Ivy asked and he shrugged.  
  
“A few affairs have been gossiped about but nothing important.” He said and pulled the low table that was in front of them closer, it had plates of food and candles on it along with a chess set. “Care to play with me?” he asked and Ivy gave him a sly smile.  
  
“Keep asking questions like that and the gossip will go into overdrive.” She teased him back and he laughed.  
  
“Considering I was here long before you showed up looking like _that_ I think I’ll be safe.” He leaned closer with a lazy smile. “Unless you’re ready for round two?” Ivy couldn’t hold back her laugh and he leaned forward to set up the game.

 

The night passed without incident and the next morning she found herself in her shared office staring at the Qunari characters with a pounding headache. From behind the privacy screen she heard Alistair let out a suffering groan before a thump of what she assumed was his head against the desk.  
  
“This is your fault.” He complained at her and she tried squinting her eyes against the light to see if that made her feel better, it didn’t.  
  
“I’m not the one who went drink for drink against Blackwall.” Ivy whined as she covered her eyes. The party last night _had_ gotten a bit out of hand and she was asked to escort Alistair back to his quarters, fortunately he was too far gone to get handsy. Unfortunately given the state she was also in it was a case of the blind leading the blind and they had to be separated and escorted by a very tired and very grumpy looking Commander.  
  
“Maker, I remember that.” Alistair sighed and stood up, rounding the screen to lean on her desk and pick up a piece of paper idly. “I can’t even see straight, this just looks like squiggles to me.” He threw down the report which was in Qunlat before slowly making his way to the door, complaining about how far away his bed was as he left to go back to sleep.

An hour later Ivy had begun to feel better when she was startled by someone placing a cup of tea on her desk. She looked up to see Beresaad before remembering the quill she held as it dripped ink onto her page. With a curse she put the quill back and dabbed at the parchment with a cloth. Beresaad smiled at her, watching until she composed herself and thanked him.   
  
“I am surprised you are here at all.” Beresaad said in amusement.  
  
“Well, I can’t shirk my duties even if it feels like my head is in a vice.” She sighed and picked up the quill before writing again, the Beresaad watching quietly.  
  
“You are confusing _ebasaam_ and _esaam._ ” He said gently before reaching down to point out the word. “Here,” he leaned over her, picking the quill out of her hand before writing the two different words in the margins of the page, showing the difference. “ _Esaam_ denotes a location, be careful or you will give your superiors false information.” Ivy nodded, a blush burning lightly on her cheeks, he was close enough that she could smell the scent of his hair and skin, feel the rumble of his voice as he explained and it dredged up memories she had long forced herself to forget.

She excused herself suddenly and stood forcing him to step back, she walked swiftly out of the room and down the hallway, bursting out onto a small balcony that overlooked the western battlements. She gripped the stone balustrade tightly as she hung her head and took in a deep breath of cold air. This was ridiculous and she scolded herself for it, she shouldn’t be letting him have any effect of her, she needed to be stronger.  
  
“Ivy have you got those reports?” Cullen’s voice floated through as he stepped out onto the balcony, he took a long measuring look at her as she straightened and sighed in exasperation. “This is why you shouldn’t let Alistair goad you into drinking.” He scolded her before leaning against the stone railing. “If you’re going to vomit please do not do it over the balcony.”  
  
“I’m not sick.” She said quietly and he didn’t believe her, just let the silence stretch between them both. “Would it be alright if I did the work in my quarters?” Ivy asked and he looked her over again.  
  
“Adaar wants you to be seen among the diplomats to support the idea of your advisory status.” He said simply which basically meant _no._ “What is wrong with where you are? You’re with Alistair aren’t you?”  
  
“And Beresaad.” She said quietly and he glanced around to ensure no one was watching before shifting closer.  
  
“What happened?” he asked with concern and she shook her head.  
  
“Nothing,” she said in frustration, “just _corrected_ a translation. But it was-” the sentence died in her throat and she spun to lean against the railing in a mimic of Cullen’s pose, her arms crossed under her breasts as she hugged herself.  
  
“It was too similar to another time.” He guessed carefully and she nodded, chewing on her lip in worry.  
  
“I know what he’s doing.” She said bitterly. “He’s trying to manipulate me.”  
  
“Knowing that doesn’t make dealing with it any easier.” Cullen sympathised and she nodded lamely, he sighed and bumped her shoulder affectionately with his own. “I don’t know what to suggest, I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s ok.” Ivy said and smiled sadly at him. “I don’t want to bother you anytime something happens.”  
  
“I want you to.” Cullen firmly said and gave her a tight smile. “Without Bull around it’s bound to be trying.”  
  
“Are you okay?” Ivy asked and he gave her another tight smile.  
  
“I’m surviving.” He said quietly and stared at the space in front of him. “The last few days have been… difficult.” He admitted and Ivy felt her heart tug guiltily. Her friend was trying to shake a substance that had controlled him half his life and she was selfishly wrapped up in her own drama.  
  
“I’m going to check on you each night.” She promised and he smiled absently. “I bet you haven’t been eating at all.”  
  
“I bet you haven’t either.” He quipped and she shrugged in reluctant confirmation.  
  
“We’re a mess.” She laughed.

 

Carrying the dress that had been delivered to her room Ivy entered Josephine’s office. The Ambassador was busy reading paperwork and barely looked up at the intruder.  
  
“Ambassador, I cannot wear this.” Ivy said with a bow and Josephine glanced up at her in annoyance.  
  
“All your other dresses have been returned, you do not have another choice until more are created.” Josephine said offhandedly and Ivy shifted in the spot. “What is wrong with it?”  
  
“It has no back.”  
  
“And?” Josephine was not phased by this.  
  
“I have… a scar that I do not want others to see.” Ivy said hesitantly and Josephine sighed.  
  
“You must attend tonight, it is a condition of our offer to protect you. We have nothing else that is appropriate for you to wear.” Josephine said flatly, annoyance tainting her voice. “I have nobles who are squabbling, a treaty to draft and negotiate while we scrape and beg for support on a war that hardly anyone cares about. Can you see why your attire is of little importance to me right now?” Ivy nodded once before bowing curtly to the Antivan woman.  
  
“I understand.” She said flatly before turning and leaving the office.

 

The dress itself was beautiful, deep red and flowing simply but Ivy couldn’t help but feel the pang of self-consciousness as the air cooled the skin on her back. A knock at the door and Ivy called for them to enter, Alistair poked his head in before stepping into the room fully with a tight smile. Ivy greeted him, glancing behind him to see if there were anyone else but saw nobody, the King however did not miss the look.  
  
“Bull sends his apologies.” Alistair said as he stepped forward, turning Ivy around so he could scoop her loose hair up into a bun, taking the pins from her hand to secure the curls.  
  
“Bull told you he was coming here?” Ivy asked curiously and Alistair hummed in agreement.   
  
“Mentioned that he was going to escort you to the main room but Adaar needed attention and so he asked for me to fill in.” Alistair finished with her hair and let her turn back around. “I hope I don’t disappoint.”  
  
“Of course not.” Ivy said with a smile and took the offered arm. “How could I turn down a King?”  
  
“Quite easily knowing you.” He joked as they stepped out of the room.

 

The first five minutes of the ball were fine until Ivy began to hear snippets of conversation, all of which were about her. But she ignored them, knowing that they’d talk and then get bored she steeled her resolve and made her way to the centre of the room, grabbing a goblet of wine from a passing tray.

Adaar arrived, escorted by Bull, and she made her way up to the throne where Bull kissed her hand before letting her ascend the steps and sit down regally. She was clad in gold and white, a long flowing dress that accentuated all of her curves in the right places. Ivy squashed down the jealousy that surged, deciding to move to the back of the room where it was less populated and the view of Adaar and Bull was mired by nobles.

The fireplace offered a wonderful warmth as she placed her hand on the mantle and sighed deeply, near her a couple sat and spoke in hushed words.

“I heard she was in Kirkwall.” The woman said and Ivy resisted the temptation to turn around and demand the woman to stop gossiping about her.  
  
“You weren’t here when they brought her in front of the court? She admitted to serving Beresaad in Kirkwall before moving on to Ferelden.” The man replied, his voice riddled with disdain. “There were a few rumours about the King taking on one of his guards as a mistress, they stopped when she left.”  
  
“Surely not.” The woman sounded scandalised.  
  
“Why not? Qunari whore and a mistress, if you know it works why change your strategy. Besides, she calls him by his first name, you don't do that to royalty unless you're intimate.”  
  
“I heard one of the merchants say they weren’t sure what she did when she was a Captain, aside from spending a lot of time with the Commander, bringing him wine and such.” The woman said and the man huffed. Ivy felt her stomach churn in anger as she watched the flames dance in the fireplace.  
  
“Doesn’t surprise me. Beresaad was defeated, Alistair is a drunk and the Commander has been acting strangely of late. It’s probably in the Inquisitor’s best interest to give her to the Qunari.” He said distastefully and Ivy stepped away from the fire, unwilling to listen to any more.

 

The last straw came as a light chorus of giggling sounded behind her followed by a quick press to the brand on her back. Ivy spun quickly to see a woman retreating as her friends tried to act nonchalantly. Ivy sent them a glare before spinning on her heels and leaving through the nearest door, she refused to be their amusement any longer.

The wind was bracing as she stepped out onto the battlements, her knuckles white as she gripped the stonework hard and let out a shaking breath. The press of the woman’s curious touch still lingered on her skin and she rolled her shoulders to rid herself of fit.

“Hiding already?” Leliana’s voice sliced through the silence and Ivy looked up to see her leaning against the stonework in her formal uniform. The spymaster was gazing over the courtyard with cold eyes but not showing any other signs of her usual profession.

“I just need a moment.” Ivy said steadily and Leliana nodded.  
  
“You are not used to political games.” Leliana spoke quietly. “Scandals and rumours are like oxygen to these people and you are an open window in a suffocating room. They’ll cling to you until they find something else to talk about.”  
  
“That’s not encouraging.”  
  
“It wasn’t meant to be.” Leliana said flatly and Ivy huffed a laugh, the silence stretching out between them for a few heartbeats. “If I had known about your brand while you were still in hiding you would have ended up in one of my dungeons. Speaking a language is one thing, having their insignia burned onto your skin is another altogether.”  
  
“It wasn’t exactly voluntary.” Ivy drawled and the patience in Leliana’s countenance showed that the woman expected an explanation. Ivy sighed heavily and rolled her shoulders again, feeling the tug of the scarred flesh.  
  
“Tell me.” She insisted.  
  
“I was captured.” Ivy said softly as she stared at the stars in the night sky. “Just after Kirkwall was razed and the Qunari retreated, I fled along the shipwreck coast. But Tal’Vashoth found me, thought they could get a ransom from the Qunari. They didn’t know that they had gone.” Ivy swallowed thickly as she remembered sitting in the limestone dirt as the rope bit into her skin, too vivid for her liking and she rubbed at the phantom feel of the rope on her wrist. “ _Spread your legs for a murderer but not for us, we’re gonna make sure that everyone knows what you are for the rest of your short life.”_ Ivy spoke the words of the Tal’Vashoth who branded her and shuddered, straightening up and facing Leliana who simply watched with a passive expression.  
  
“What did they think you were?” She asked and Ivy looked at her incredulously.   
  
“A Qunari whore.” Ivy replied bitterly. “And you know what? They were right. I was going to do anything to stay alive… and I did.” Leliana stood to attention.  
  
“Beresaad.” Leliana said and Ivy turned to see him standing near the doorway, a blanket folded over his arm as he regarded Ivy blankly.  
  
“Spymaster,” Beresaad rumbled, “would you excuse us?” Leliana looked to Ivy who nodded once before watching Leliana leave through the open door, but not without giving Ivy a look of caution.  
  
“You were eavesdropping.” Ivy said and Beresaad stood forward he shook his head once.  
  
“I merely walked in on your conversation.” He tried to reassure her and Ivy turned back to look over the courtyard, leaning against the stonework again. “You left suddenly, I wanted to ensure you were well.”  
  
“I’m as well as I could be.” Ivy said flatly and felt his presence close to her.  
  
“Why you allow these Bas to speak of you in such a way I do not understand.” He said bitterly. “But the indiscretion of human nobles is not why the Spymaster was interrogating you.”  
  
“That statement was merely a courtesy, you know what she was asking me about.” Ivy said almost angrily and felt warmth as he placed his palm softly on the bare skin of her back, his thumb grazing along the edges of the brand almost reverently. She tensed for a second before relaxing somewhat, the gentle touch welcome to her stressed body.  
  
“Being branded does not make you property.” Beresaad said simply, softly as he took the opportunity to step in close to Ivy. “Being my lover did not make you a whore, even if you had other motives for your actions.” He draped the blanket around her bare shoulders and she turned to face him, clutching at the soft material as he raised his hand to cup at her jaw. The warmth was comforting and Ivy caught herself leaning into it before she turned her head away.   
  
“We should return to the main room before others come looking for us.” Ivy said flatly.  
  
“You don’t want to.” Beresaad said. “And I do not want to watch you suffer for no reason.” He leaned down slowly, his thumb grazing along her jaw as her heart raced. He paused for barely a moment before the rough skin of his lips grazed against hers, barely touching before she stepped back and out of the way, her breathing ragged as she clutched the blanket to her chest.

“Forgive me,” Beresaad said sadly, his brow furrowed into a frown as he gazed over the courtyard. “I should not have-” he didn’t finish his sentence, just turned and walked back into the keep as Ivy tried to come to terms with what she had just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably edit this chapter in the future, it's a bit too choppy for my liking sorry about that! :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is my duty, Kadan.” Beresaad replied in Qunlat carefully so he could understand her better. “Surely you are aware that what Hissrad has been doing is against the Qun, he has been under suspicion for some time.”

Pushing the door to her quarters Ivy almost fell into the room, panic tightening around her lungs as she paced along the wooden floor. She _kissed_ him, or he kissed her? Did it really matter? She shook her hands out as she walked, the walls feeling claustrophobic around her as her thoughts raced.

She was unsure of what prompted the decision at first, the growing feeling of instability and the overwhelmingly familiar sensation of having no choices gnawing in her gut pushing her to dress quickly, to strip of the guise of the well-dressed advisor and put on her uniform, complete with armour and her Ferelden cape. She dressed for warmth, knowing it was damned cold outside and picked up her satchel quickly, the provisions in it rattling and shifting as she slung it across her chest.

She paused by the door and glanced behind her one last time, taking in the drawings pinned on the wall and the mess she casually left behind, shaking her head as if to clear it she stepped out and shut the door, flipping the lock so it would lock behind her.

The stables were empty and she managed to get her mare saddled quickly and quietly, the horse picking up on her sense of urgency and allowing Ivy to work. Once ready Ivy led the mare out of the stall and mounted, pulling her hood up and securing it before covering her mouth and nose with the light scarf she wore under her cape. Urging the mare forward she stole out of the stables and left Skyhold without any interference. 

Ivy had to stop in the valley below and light a lantern to secure to the saddle, the full moon afforded some light but not enough to safely ride by and the trees in the valley mottled the moonlight enough to cast dark shadows along her path. The howling of wolves putting her on edge enough to warrant dimming the lantern a little bit before she double checked she had all her weapons and set off into the mountains.

A few hours before dawn Ivy recognised an overlook which provided good shelter to her in the past and she dismounted, securing her horse out of the wind and setting up her small tent with military efficiency. She crawled into it determined to get a couple of hours sleep, if her gnawing guilt and racing thoughts would allow for it.

 

Waking sometime into the morning Ivy sighed with a complaint. She managed to fall asleep near dawn but it was fraught with vivid dreams and the pressing cold of the snow, her body stiff from it all as she sat up and made her way out of the tent.

A campfire was burning, some kind of tea bubbling away on it and Ivy drew her sword before noticing the hooded woman sitting with her back to Ivy. The woman drew her own short sword carefully and pointed it down and out towards the snow, clearly showing Ivy that she was armed and aware of the scout’s presence.  
  
“Don’t be reckless.” Leliana’s voice was melodic but firm, a dangerous lilt in her voice warning Ivy from any intentions of putting her sword to use. Ivy’s heart hammered as she looked around at the cliffs above them, looking for any others.  
  
“Where are your agents?” Ivy asked, her voice hoarse from sleep.  
  
“Three on the ledge to the north and another one directly above us.” Leliana stated as if it were normal before shifting to peer at Ivy around her hood. “Put the sword away and sit down.” Ivy reluctantly complied before moving to sit on the ground adjacent to the Spymaster, she looked the woman over, watching as she casually poured some tea into a cup and took a sip from it. Ivy didn’t say anything, just waited for Leliana to say what she intended to.  
  
“Imagine my surprise when Iron Bull came to me just before dawn to tell me you had left Skyhold.” She said flatly and Ivy huffed and shook her head.  
  
“I imagine you weren’t surprised at all.”  
  
“True.” Leliana conceded as she sipped the tea. “Some people flourish in politics, others drown. You are of a kind who cannot abide the deceit that comes with playing _the game_ , despite your clear ability to deceive. So no, I was not surprised when Bull told me you had left. Nor was I surprised at his distress or accusations that Beresaad was responsible for it.”  
  
“So why are you here?” Ivy asked and Leliana raised one finger to silence her and insist she be patient.  
  
“In order to prevent Iron Bull from making a terrible decision to confront Beresaad I told him that you were on a mission, that I sent you in the middle of the night. I then had to tell this to Cullen, to Alistair who had also become concerned at your absence. Even Varric and Harding were making noise about your disappearance, readying mounts to go into the mountains after you.”  
  
“They overreacted.”  
  
“They _cared_.” Leliana hissed, the first crack in her composure showing before she gathered herself again by sipping at the tea. “Cared enough to go after you blindly based on half the information. It is on their behalf I am here talking to you instead of cutting my losses and your throat.” Ivy felt a shudder roll down her spine and remained still, watching the woman carefully. “You did a callous thing, but after talking to you last night and to Bull this morning I can see your logic behind it. I believe you have rarely been in a situation with the luxury of simply escaping when the enemy is closing in, you have always been controlled by the whim of command. Even Cullen pressed and guided your actions to his design.”  
  
“Cullen only wanted to keep me safe.” Ivy said calmly, upset at Leliana’s bleak hypothesis of her friend’s actions.  
  
“They all wanted that.” Leliana rebuked. “Beresaad, Alistair, Cullen, Bull. They each had different intentions of course but all used their positions to ensure your safety. But you never felt right about it, did you?” Leliana peered at her with curiosity and Ivy looked away from her, scanning the cliffs above them again.  
  
“No.” She conceded finally. “I didn’t.”  
  
“And now you are free of command, free of having to hide in secrecy only to have the idea of protection dangled in front of you by Adaar. Someone who, despite your differences, you have actively defended and willingly served.” She put her cup of tea down onto the snow, staring at it as she spoke. “But it was still just an idea and as she kept wearing down your shields Beresaad was given freedom to pursue you. But you’re not restricted now and the possibility of escaping and regaining anonymity is very real and very tempting.”  
  
“I didn’t intend to hurt them.” Ivy said and it sounded pathetic even to herself.  
  
“No, you just took the most selfish course of action available.” Leliana chided. “What I haven’t figured out is where you intend on going, I thought you would have gone to Ferelden at least since you would have blended in so well there.”  
  
“No, I served there for two years and too many refugees from the Free Marches are returning to Ferelden despite its slow recovery from the Blight, that and this ridiculous _reveal_ that Ambassador Montilyet did means that Ferelden is too risky. I could hide in the countryside for a time but be found eventually.” Ivy said flatly, she had been tempted to go to Ferelden but the more she thought about it the more she knew she couldn’t. “I would have gone south-west.”  
  
“Into the Arbour Wilds?” Leliana sounded surprised and Ivy felt a shade of satisfaction that the famous Nightingale didn’t guess it. “Why?”  
  
“It’s mostly unmapped, good place to hide and survive in the thick forest.” Ivy chewed on her lip in thought. “There’s something important there, something I want to keep safe until the Inquisition searches for it.”  
  
“Why would you leave Skyhold only to do that?”  
  
“I don’t have to remain in Skyhold to fight for the cause.” Ivy scolded Leliana for once. “Your mistake is assuming that I merely fell into your service, I have been fighting to get to the Inquisition since Par Vollen.”  
  
“You sound like you regret leaving already.”  
  
“I regretted it the moment I left the gate.” Ivy admitted. “But you’re right, the temptation of being able to leave and control my own fate for once was strong. And I was not.” Leliana reached into her cloak and Ivy tensed, reaching for her sword, she pulled out a scroll and tossed it to Ivy with an incredulous look.  
  
“You have four days to complete your mission.” Leliana said flatly as Ivy cracked the seal and looked at a map and description of a farmstead. “I want detailed descriptions of everyone who goes in and out of that house, if you don’t return on the fourth day I’ll assume you are either dead or heading to the Wilds.” Leliana stood up and sheathed her sword, looking down at Ivy calculatingly. “I hope you make the right decision, not just for the Inquisition but for yourself.” She turned and walked away, leaving Ivy to contemplate the choices she had in front of her.

 

The mission was simple despite it being somewhat different to her usual fare. She ended up camped in a tree for two days as she wrote and drew descriptions of the visitors to the house, of which there were quite a few. It went smoothly until a Red Templar patrol discovered her horse in the thickness of the forest, the mare’s distant whinnying alerting Ivy to their presence and Ivy had to take action before they reported her to their squad but she managed to silence them and return to her mission undiscovered. Eventually it came to be time to leave, the decision of going to either the Wilds or Skyhold weighing heavily on her thoughts. With a bit of trepidation and a lot of guilt she steered her horse back towards the mountains.

The valley below Skyhold was teeming with activity, tents of all kinds lined the banks of the river and areas had been separated to allow for training grounds, stables, mess camps, armourers and blacksmiths and just about anything else a mobile army would need. Ivy approached the natural bridge, noticing the beginning of construction of several other bridges in the distance and stopped by the soldier who was on sentry duty.

She pulled her hood and scarf down and the soldier saluted her in greeting.  
  
“Good to see you in uniform again ma’am.” The soldier smiled and Ivy returned it with one of her own.  
  
“Feels good to back in it.” Ivy said before looking over the buzz of activity. “What’s happening here Private?”  
  
“We had an influx of refugees and volunteers and we couldn’t house them all in the Keep. Command ordered us to set up a permanent base in the valley. Our numbers just about doubled in the past two days.”   
  
“Finally some good news.” Ivy said and the Private huffed and agreed, pointing to the far side of the bank towards the east.  
  
“The Commander is currently in camp, his tent is the big one near the training grounds.” Ivy thanked him before riding away, carefully guiding her mare through the crowds and tents.

 

Ivy hitched the reigns on a post by the river and made her way to the tent that belonged to Cullen. It was large enough to serve as an office for him as well as sleeping quarters and had a guard posted outside of it watching people pass warily. Ivy approached and the guard nodded to her, waving her in silently.

Cullen looked up as she entered, he had been looking over a map of the valley and straightened his stance before resting his hands on the hilt of his sword casually.  
  
“Welcome back.” He said with half a smile, Ivy glanced around at the setup of the tent – there were definitely perks to being in command, especially when you get to sleep on a cot that isn’t on the ground and have a brazier set up to keep you warm.  
  
“Not _about time you showed up_?” Ivy asked in amusement and Cullen smiled tiredly at her.  
  
“No.” He said confidently. “I knew you’d be back in time.” Ivy walked up to him but stopped short as she took in his pale skin, the gaunt line of his cheeks and the dark marks under his eyes. She reached out and touched at his shoulder comfortingly, his hand automatically reaching up to cover it.  
  
“Someone has to keep you from working the troops into the ground.” She said and he laughed, nodding in agreement. “Will you be down here long?” She asked and he nodded.  
  
“Until tomorrow at least.”  
  
“I’ll pitch a tent in the ranks.” Ivy said and he looked at her questioningly.  
  
“You should report to Skyhold before Leliana declares you dead.” He said and Ivy smiled at him.  
  
“And after that I’m coming back with supplies, cooking you something to put meat back on your frame and pitching a tent among the ranks.” Her firm voice was insistent, stubborn and she laughed while he shook his head. “Then you’re going to give me your training roster and I’m going to do your shift with them while you stay here and sleep.” Cullen looked at her for a long moment before looking back to the map and nodding once.  
  
“Alright.” He said reluctantly and it was more than telling to Ivy that he needed the help, even when drowning in work he would fight against her assistance. She stepped in close and pulled him down to her level, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.   
  
“I want you to go to sleep now.” She said and he sighed in resignation. “I’ll be back in an hour and take over. What’s the guard’s name at your door?”  
  
“Atton.” He said roughly, his voice already becoming less focussed.  
  
“Take your armour off, you’re not sleeping in that thing.” Ivy scolded him and he pulled back with a smile, hands fiddling with the straps at the side. She watched him for a moment, worry pooling in her stomach as he struggled to harness the motor functions needed to undo the clasps but she let him continue, only stepping in to help as he lifted the chestplate away from himself. She put it on the armour stand along with all the other pieces he slowly took off and waited until he was comfortably situated in his cot with a blanket over him before she felt he was comfortable enough to leave.

Pausing before she turned away she looked back to her friend, seeing him fight against the tiredness that was quickly overwhelming. Her hand reached out tentatively, covering his that rested on his chest, her warm skin meeting his cold.   
  
“I’m sorry.” She said, almost a whisper and the faint ghost of a smile spread on his face. Despite everything else, despite the people she cared for in the Inquisition, seeing Cullen like this and still choosing to leave him made her feel more than guilty.  
  
“I know.” He rasped just before he fell asleep, his cold fingers absently intertwining with hers.

She stepped out of the tent and turned to see Atton, he had taken his helmet off and was sporting a salt and pepper beard, his dark hair greying around the edges despite his youthful look. He stood to attention and saluted to her which she returned.  
  
“No one is to disturb the Commander.” She ordered him and he nodded once in understanding. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to report to him. No one at all Atton, even if the Inquisitor descends riding Andraste from on high demanding to be let in.”  
  
“Understood ma’am.” He said with a hint of amusement and Ivy mounted her horse, riding fast to Skyhold.

 

They were all in the War Room, every one of them save the Commander and they all looked at Ivy with a mix of relief, surprise and slight agitation as Ivy knocked and walked in. Leliana stepped forwards and Ivy handed over the book she used on the mission, the Spymaster giving her a tight smile and slight nod as she accepted it.

The book was passed to Adaar who began to silently flick through it and Ivy risked a glance at the others who were scattered around the room. When she met Varric’s look he winked but when she met Bull’s he looked away unhappily causing the guilt she already felt to grip tightly at her heart. Ivy then decided to keep her gaze forward, still standing to attention with her hands behind her back.  
  
“Anything unusual to report?” Adaar asked a few minutes after flicking through the book.  
  
“Templar presence increased over the time I was at the location, they were split in two groups, one heading south and one west.” Ivy reported and Leliana updated the map of Thedas to reflect the troop movement.   
  
“This mission was different to your usual duty, were you discovered at all?” Leliana asked and Ivy nodded once.  
  
“Unfortunately yes.” Ivy said, feeling a little ashamed of being found. “Templars sniffed me out.”  
  
“And what happened to them?”  
  
“They were not able to report back to their squad.” Ivy said flatly and Leliana gave a queer satisfied smile that made Ivy even more wary of the woman.  
  
“I am glad to hear it.” The Spymaster said. “You have time owing to you, will you remain in Skyhold until you return to your advisor duties?”  
  
“No, I will be in the Valley Camp.” Ivy said and Adaar and Leliana looked at her curiously. “I have volunteered my time to the Commander, should I be needed I will be there.”  
  
“Very well, we will send word when your presence is required.” Leliana said quickly before Adaar could speak. The redhead walked forward and offered her hand, Ivy looked at it suspiciously before shaking it, the Spymaster stepping into her space to talk quietly. “You made the right decision.” She said simply before stepping back. Ivy saluted the room and turned on her heels, walking out of the War Room and towards the kitchens.

 

The midday sun was shining high in the clear blue sky as Ivy returned with her saddlebag full of provisions. She stepped down from her saddle with a sigh and hitched her horse on the same post before detaching the bag and making her way over to the Commander’s tent. Atton nodded to her and allowed her to pass before standing in front of the entrance again, she nodded back to him with a smile, he seemed to be a good soldier.

Entering the tent she saw Cullen not sleeping but sitting on the edge of the cot, his hands rubbing at his head slowly. He didn’t look up as she walked in or as she walked over to him, didn’t even open his eyes as she knelt in front of him and gently touched at his hands.  
  
“You’re got a fever.” Ivy said softly and he nodded once.  
  
“And a dagger worming through my skull.” He said roughly, his voice like sandpaper and it made her throat hurt in sympathy as Ivy reached for the waterskin she carried with her, prompting him to sit up properly and drink from it.  
  
“I’ll make a tea that will help your head.” She said and he sighed and nodded. “You need to try to rest some more.” He reluctantly lay back on the bed again, allowing Ivy to put a blanket over him before she popped her head out of the tent and got Atton’s attention.  
  


Ivy pulled rank enough to get a Private to build a campfire in the empty space in front of the Commander’s tent and find some cooking equipment before she set about filling the small iron pot with water and an array of meat and vegetables and leaving it to cook for the next few hours. Standing up from the campfire Ivy dusted some charcoal from her hand before the rolling thunder of hooves made her glance over her shoulder. Ivy tensed to see that the occupants of the War Room had followed her down, the group dismounting their horses and handing them off to the waiting soldiers.

Adaar was quick to stride to the Commander’s tent along with Cassandra, Atton glanced between the approaching women and Ivy who had given him clear orders previously. Before the poor soldier could be put into the awkward situation Ivy jogged forward, calling for Cassandra’s attention.  
  
“Seeker,” Ivy called her and Cassandra stopped, looking her over with a withering eye. “The Commander is unable to attend to anyone at present.” Cassandra looked Ivy over again, but this time with an acknowledgement. The Seeker glanced to Adaar who waited patiently to continue, her staff in her hand as she leaned into it.  
  
“How long until he will be able to see us?” Cassandra asked quietly, her accent surprisingly soft. Ivy shook her head gently and watched as the worry subtly flashed through Cassandra’s features followed by a heavy sigh. “We will inspect the camp without him then, if he recovers before tonight please tell him Josephine is planning on having our guests stay down here as a diversion for a day, their escorts will arrive to set up tents for them in the morning.”  
  
“He’ll be pleased to hear that.” Ivy said sarcastically and Cassandra shrugged.  
  
“They’ve seen our politics, showing them the army that enforces us will make them take the Inquisition seriously. Commander Rutherford will understand this.” The Seeker said offhandedly and stepped to move away before turning back to Ivy. “I trust you will watch him until then. Should you need anything send a runner directly to me.” Ivy saluted Cassandra and watched the Seeker exchange a few words with the Inquisitor before skilfully steering her away from the tent.

The Inquisitor and her companions made their way further into the camp, some like Blackwall and Vivienne clearly interested in the progress of the camp and others like Sera and Solas were not. Cole simply dismounted his horse and sat by the small campfire humming to himself, smiling at Ivy sweetly before becoming distracted by a dust mote. Ivy scooped up a small metal container from near Cole who looked to her with wide eyes from under the brim of his hat. Trudging down towards the river Ivy stepped out onto a larger boulder and squatted to scoop up the water, turning back she found Bull watching her quietly, his expression distant.

“I explained to Adaar what is going on.” Bull said as Ivy carefully made her way back onto the riverbank, she looked at him questioningly but he simply continued to watch her passively.  
  
“I bet she took that well.” Ivy said and he chuckled and absently rubbed at his jaw.  
  
“She was on board after I explained everything and after she landed a solid punch. I apologised for leading her on and she wished us well.” He sighed as he watched Ivy hooked the water to boil over the campfire. “I wish you two would put your issues aside, you’re more alike than you realise.”  
  
“We have the same taste in men clearly.” Ivy said quickly and regretted how biting it sounded. Bull just stood and watched her for a moment as she fussed through her bag and began to throw herbs into the water, the sunlight bouncing off the metal Inquisition emblem of her armour.  
  
“Why did you leave?” He asked with a rough and hushed voice, Ivy’s movements slowed as she felt him scrutinizing her responses to the question.  
  
“I needed to go.” She said before standing and walking to him, her fingers raking through her hair in discomfort. “I just- needed to clear my head.”  
  
“You can’t just say it can you?” Bull said in frustration and crossed his arms over his chest. “Can’t tell me about Beresaad.” Ivy looked to the ground, wrapping her arms just below her breasts as she felt her throat constrict. “You really think I would abandon you completely while he is around? I’ve had someone watching you since he arrived.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” She said.  
  
“I don’t want you to apologise.” He sighed and stepped forward, his hands resting on her shoulders. She had missed him, missed his touch and it wasn’t enough but Ivy stayed still as he frowned down at her. “I want you to trust me, to be honest with me. I want to be the person you come to when you’re worried, but instead you _left._ We’re lucky that Leliana was in a forgiving mood otherwise you might not have been able to come back at all.”  
  
“Why aren’t you angry with me?” Ivy was frustrated, she had expected him to be upset with her. Bull moved closer and slid a hand to push at her lower back, pressing her against the line of his body, his other hand moved up and gently settled in the curls at the base of her skull. Gently he leaned down, kissing her deeply, tongue flicking against her lips to beg for entrance and coaxing pliant sounds from her throat as she allowed him. As her hand slid up to caress his jaw he pulled back reluctantly, their breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead to hers.  
  
“Now, was his kiss better than mine?” he asked and she shook her head, feeling his rough skin move against hers. “If it was I would have been angry, but I know that what we have means more to you than what the two of you once had. I know you wouldn’t be able to kiss him like you do me.”  
  
“You’re far too understanding.” Ivy said with a sigh. “If the situation were reversed I would have been angry. Jealous.”  
  
“I am,” he said roughly, “but I’m angry at Beresaad for thinking he could touch you, I’m angry at myself for letting him think that. I went about all of this the wrong way, I made you feel alone. I made you _look_ alone.”  
  
“Bull-”  
  
“I damn near drove you into that madman’s arms.” His fingers flexed against her and he shook his head in frustration. “And I couldn’t even see it until you left and Leliana raked me over the coals.”  
  
“She did?”  
  
“Oh yeah. Made it very clear just how much of an idiot I was being.” Bull chuckled to himself and pulled Ivy to his chest, she sighed as she was enveloped by him, the comforting warmth and rumbling of his chest almost brought a tear to her eye she was so relieved to feel it.   
  
“She did the same to me.” Ivy admitted. “Tracked me down in the mountains.”  
  
“Well, I’m glad she did.” He said softly and they stayed together for a long moment, quiet and content as the distant sounds of the camp carried over them. “I love you, Kadan.”  
  
“Love you, Bull.”

 

As Ivy tended to Cullen by making him eat and drink, giving him a mild sedative to ease the increasing amount of pain he was experiencing and ensuring he rested as much as possible, Bull decided that he would set up Ivy’s tent a small distance away from the mass of tents and shelters the soldiers were sleeping in. He also decided to throw caution to the wind and take up residence there for the night.

Exhausted and covered in sweat from training the soldiers and covering the duties Cullen had organised for himself Ivy discovered her tent and its occupant almost by accident. Bull’s smile was at first a wide, cheeky grin but it melted into a subtle shadow of concern when Ivy’s confusion continued for more than a few seconds.  
  
“Should I not have?” Bull asked quietly as Ivy took in the perfectly set up tent, the small campfire a safe distance away from it and his greatsword piercing the ground. “I thought you might appreciate having me to yourself for once.”  
  
“I do appreciate it.” Ivy said quietly as she worked at the straps on her armour, taking off the heavy pieces and resting them by the tent. “But is this the plan now? Showing everyone our relationship?”  
  
“Anyone we don’t want knowing is in Skyhold.” Bull said with a smile as he watched her shed the leather. “The only people here are Inquisition, the only people on the edges of this camp are us.” Ivy looked him over, his tired expression as attractive to her as his smile and she nodded, a small grin playing on her face. Stepping into the tent she checked behind her to see Bull standing still, she looked back out at him and grinned.  
  
“Are you coming in or not?” She teased him and his deep laugh echoed in the quiet night.

 

Ivy checked on her Commander in the middle of the night to find him hungry and a bit cranky having read the note that Ivy left detailing the arrival of the nobles in the morning.  
  
“Josephine must think we have nothing better to do than stand on parade.” He grumbled as Ivy handed him a bowl of stew which he began to eat straight away.  
  
“I doubt she is expecting a display.” Ivy said and sat beside him, feeling at his forehead to check for the fever that had apparently subsided while he slept. “At least we will be able to show them that we’re not playing at war, that we are serious.” Cullen grunted in acknowledgement and Ivy smiled at him which made him huff a laugh and smile back.  
  
“This is amazing.” Cullen said as he spooned more into his mouth. “Who made it?”  
  
“I did.” Ivy said and he raised an eyebrow to her suspiciously. “Thought you could do with more than what the mess could provide.”  
  
“I appreciate it.” Cullen said quietly. “When you and Bull finally decide to settle down and have a family they’ll be well fed certainly.” Ivy huffed and shook her head at him.  
  
“Bull isn’t really the settling down type.” Ivy said flatly and he looked her over calculatingly.  
  
“But you _are_ happy with him aren’t you?” he asked quietly and Ivy sighed and stood, giving him a peck on his forehead for good measure.   
  
“I am.” Ivy said. “Now finish eating then straight back to bed, I need my Commander formidable to face all the noblewomen tomorrow.” Cullen rolled his eyes at her and she laughed, leaving him and returning to her tent.

 

As the midday sun shone over them the Soldiers trained, full armour donned and sharp weapons drawn the men and women went through their drills, the heavy sounds of metal crashing into metal was deafening at first but soon it became commonplace as Ivy watched over the display.

She was keeping an eye on the newer solders, periodically stopping them and fixing their stances, their countermeasures and defences while Cullen took on the more experienced soldiers. The Commander himself looked well rested and far healthier than he did the day before, tall and formidable in his own armour as he yelled at the fighting men and women of the Inquisition to keep their shields up and footing strong.

Nobles began to wander by and Cullen rolled his eyes at Ivy in his own silent protest. They had obviously waited for the warmer weather and for their shelters to be set up before leaving the comfort of Skyhold. Some wandered through on their own, either not being important enough to be escorted or wanting a break from the group while others were accompanied by their own soldiers and a few by Adaar and other important people of the Inquisition.

Soon a group of Sten approached the soldiers with a note which they handed to Cullen and a few minutes later they were training with the Inquisition soldiers, a gesture which the onlooking nobles thought was grand and prompted them to send their own to join in while they watched on and settled on a small hill to drink and partake in politics.

A few hours later the soldiers were suitably exhausted and the nobles suitably drunk and the former dismissed to return to their duties, Cullen staying behind with a few of his higher ranking officers to give feedback, field suggestions and stave off having to go and join the nobles.

Ivy wandered to the river and splashed water over her face in a vain attempt as washing away some of the sweat and dirt that had accumulated on her over the day. The water was freezing still and the shock of it made her a bit more alert, alert enough to hear the boots approaching. Standing she turned and wiped the excess water from her face, Beresaad bowing to her slightly in greeting.  
  
“It is good to see you again.” He said, his voice deep and rough. “I hope your mission went well.”  
  
“It did.” Ivy said without really looking at him. “Thank you for your concern.” She moved as if to walk around him but he held his hand out subtly, indicating that he had more to say. Ivy glanced around, looking for an excuse to move past but little presented itself.  
  
“I was hoping to be able to talk with you later.” Beresaad said quietly. “When we are away from curious eyes and ears. I want to explain myself, my actions, on the night you departed.”  
  
“I don’t believe there is anything to explain.” Ivy said and he nodded once, moving to the side to allow her to leave. Ivy walked away, the pebbles crunching under her boots as she sought out something to distract and occupy her time.

 

That night an area was set up to entertain both the nobility and the soldiers, music was echoing beautifully in the valley as people ate and drank, danced and flirted. The marquee shelters were lit up with magelight, bonfires roared and crackled and the laughter of the people could be heard from far away.

Ivy stood talking to Harding about the possibility scouting in the Western Approach when she spied Bull by the treeline, leaning against a massive trunk and subtly looking her way. He smiled, gestured with a nod of his head to follow and turned to disappear into the darkness of the forest.

A meager excuse given Ivy peeled herself away to follow him, feet quiet on the undergrowth as she stole through the trees until the light and sound of the revelry were dim, coming to a small moonlit clearing. She glanced around but couldn’t see him, thinking that she had passed him she turned and was met with his broad chest and mischievous smile.  
  
“Shit, Bull. Don’t sneak up like that.” She said and he reached down to rest his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him with a press of his fingers.  
  
“Were you followed?” he asked, his voice husky as he leaned down to brush his lips against her jaw.  
  
“No?” she replied with a hitch of her voice, his lips and teeth cascading along her skin leaving light marks and flushed skin in its wake. “We promised no scandals.” She said breathily as a tree trunk came up against her back.  
  
“It’s a scandal if we’re caught.” He purred and his hands were under her tunic, gliding up and feeling the line of her ribs, cupping as the swell of her breasts as she began to writhe beneath them. His lips found hers and he took them roughly with a growl, teeth nipping at her lower lip gently as he worked at the laces of her leggings.

Quickly and gently he moved her to be facing the tree, her palms hitting the wood with a slap and he pressed himself against her back, his teeth nipping at her earlobe with a growl as her leggings were pushed down with a rush, the cold air making her skin shiver as he caressed the curve of her behind, one clawed finger gently parting her sex before it began to slide into her, the sudden spark of pleasure making her gasp and arch towards the wood as he pressed ever closer to her.  
  
“I think you like this.” He teased as he pushed her tunic to sit above her breasts, rolling her nipple gently between his fingers while his second hand worked to hit that wonderful spot inside of her. “Being exposed and touched so close to everyone, anyone could wander over and see you being fucked by a Kossith.” She bit her lip and whimpered, suddenly tightening around his fingers and he chuckled low as he bit her shoulder playfully. He stretched her wider, sliding in another and she gasped, prompting Bull to encourage her.  
  
“That’s my girl.” She could hear the wolfish grin on his voice, the laces of his own pants being undone. “Now, I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to stay quiet aren’t you?” She cut her own moan short and nodded, leaning back to kiss him as he adjusted his stance and gripped her hips, his cock pressing into her roughly as he stretched her, a tremor ran through her body as she tensed and arched up and away from him, his hand clamping over her mouth suddenly and she realised she had been moaning.  
  
“Shh, Kadan.” He whispered into her ear as he pressed into her, pausing briefly to let her body become accustomed to his size, hand sneaking down to circle roughly at her clit. Drawing out he growled lightly before pushing all the way back in, Ivy whimpered and gasped as she tightened around him, the feeling of him almost too much as she was pressed back against his chest.  
  
“Good,” he purred as he picked up a steady rhythm, “you like me fucking you don’t you?” She nodded her head with a stifled moan, the sound of the bodies hitting together almost too loud in the quiet clearing and the fear of being discovered thrilled her, heightened her excitement as she came suddenly, her body shaking and thrumming in elation as he moaned against her skin and tensed, pushing her against the wood of the tree hard as he released in her, the heat of him sitting heavy in her abdomen as he kissed her skin and caressed her bringing them both down from their high gently.

Ivy returned to the mass of people and found Harding where she had left her talking to a few scouts. When she approached Harding passed her a new drink and Ivy eyed it suspiciously half expecting it to be drugged again.   
  
“So,” Ivy said as she sat on the ground by the campfire, “The Western Approach. When do you go?”   
  
“Tomorrow morning.” Harding said with a sigh, she wasn’t looking forward to the desert heat.  
  
“I would tell you to be careful but I don’t think I need to.” Ivy said as she sipped the ale, Harding hummed in agreement.  
  
“Do I need to tell you?” Harding asked and gave Ivy a sideways glance and a raised eyebrow. “Or do you think you’ll be able to keep out of trouble until I get back?”  
  
“You wound me.” Ivy said with her hand to her chest. “I am always careful.”  
  
“You literally just came back from a tryst in the woods with a big ass Kossith.” Harding hissed at her quietly enough that no one overheard. “How are you even walking?” Ivy leaned back and rested her head on Harding’s shoulder looking up to her with a smile.  
  
“You should try it sometime.” Ivy teased and Harding rolled her eyes. “Unless, that is, you’re already trying something else?” Harding huffed a laugh and shook her head, glancing to a group nearby. Ivy wouldn’t have noticed the blush on her cheeks if she hadn’t been so close, but when she did she followed the gaze to see Varric laughing with another soldier. Ivy sat up and looked Harding dead on who leaned away from Ivy and took another long drink.  
  
“There might be-” Ivy was hugging Harding with a squeal before the poor woman could get another word out and then the two of them were on the ground, Harding swearing and Ivy making a long high-pitched sound of happiness.  
  
“This is the best thing _ever_.” Ivy said and Harding shushed her before a smile broke out on her face. “Oh my god you’re going to have the tiniest and sneakiest babies.”  
  
“That _is_ mildly insulting you know.” Harding laughed and tried to drink again before giving up and letting Ivy ask a million questions all at once.

 

Returning to Skyhold was almost painful after the free feeling of the camp, returning to her quarters even more so when she saw that it had been rummaged through, the sketches that were up on the walls taken down and removed. She sighed and dropped her bag, picking up things here and there to put away and wondering just who felt the need to go through her belongings.

A knock on the door sounded and Ivy called for whoever it was to enter, the door opened gently and Josephine walked in holding a midnight blue dress.  
  
“Seer,” She spoke almost uncertainly, “I had this made for you tonight.” Ivy looked it over and nodded once, gesturing to the bed so Josephine could put it on there. The Ambassador did carefully and hovered awkwardly, glancing around the room.  
  
“Was there anything else?” Ivy asked and Josephine nodded once, her hand flitting at the ruffles on her dress.  
  
“It was similar to the other one but I had them add more fabric, a back panel and a hood.” Ivy raised her eyebrow and Josephine swallowed, she was clearly nervous, something out of character for the confident woman. “I – well – I’m sorry.” She said and looked to Ivy hopefully. “I did not mean for you to become a spectacle.”  
  
“It was always the plan for me to become a spectacle.” Ivy said dryly and shook her head. “But I appreciate the apology.” Josephine gave a half smile and nodded, gesturing towards the door.  
  
“I had, yes I had better go.” She left quickly and Ivy moved to the dress, it looked familiar but she couldn’t place the memory. Shrugging to herself she continued to clean the room and bathe, it wouldn’t be long before she would have to dress and impress.

 

She practically glided in the dress as she walked through the throngs of people, stopping to greet few as she did. Alistair smiled and scooped up her hand to kiss as she passed, his smile letting her know he was happy to see her return before he turned back to continue his conversation with an older noblewoman. Adaar nodded to her in acknowledgment and gave her a tight but friendly smile and soon Ivy had managed to find some brandy and a warm fireplace to stand next to.  
  
“Kadan.” Beresaad said and Ivy turned to see him dressed in a formal tunic and half armour, he looked her over and bowed deeply before picking up her hand to place a kiss on it.   
  
“You seem to be picking up more and more _Bas_ habits, Beresaad.” Ivy said and he nodded once.  
  
“If taking up a small custom furthers the reputation of the Qun then it is not a hardship to do so.” He spoke, gazing over the crowd as he did. Ivy noticed his long hair was tied back, the silver sharp against the black of his tunic and the Bronze of the cuffs on his horns shone with the candlelight of the room.  
  
“It’s just odd to see.” Ivy said quietly and he hummed in agreement.  
  
“I have changed since Kirkwall,” he said with a small frown, “just as you have. We have become more understanding, more worldly.”  
  
“I suppose we have come a long way from the dust and smell.” Ivy said tightly, a small part of her missed the streets of Kirkwall.   
  
“Kadan, my time here will be finished soon.” He said and stepped closer to the warmth of the fire, Ivy stared at the flickering flames before taking a sip of her brandy.   
  
“You will return to Par Vollen?” Ivy asked and he nodded once.   
  
“I still hold out hope that you will leave with me.” He said flatly. “And I have not given up on the possibility.” He frowned and dragged his gaze away from the fireplace to look at her, he seemed almost confused as his eyes fell to the floor. “I love you, Kadan.” Ivy felt herself blush and she shifted on her feet, she felt hot, a bit dizzy as the silence stretched between them.  
  
“Beresaad-” She began and her voice broke, shaking her head she stepped away from him. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” She said before quickly fleeing back into the crowd.

As she walked to the far side of the room her hand was caught, Bull leaning in close for the briefest moment.  
  
“Go out the east door in a few minutes.” He said before walking away, Ivy moved to the wall and watched him as he left the room out of the door he mentioned and sighed. She was more than happy to leave and didn’t want to wait.

After a couple of minutes Ivy followed through the same door, she had to smile and nod her way through the crowd and deftly avoid some conversations she didn’t want to be dragged into but she made it. The hallway in front of her swept to either side, leading to the library above and the less used rooms below that were converted into the guest rooms for the celebrations.  
  
“Here.” She heard Bull call softly and she looked to her left to see him standing against a door with his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“What is it?” Ivy asked and walked towards him, when she was close enough he opened the door and pulled her inside. The room was a smaller lounge that was reserved for the guests, it was empty but the candles were still lit. Bull stepped up behind her after closing the door and spun her to face him, his smirk was wicked and made her heartbeat speed up as he walked her backwards far enough that she bumped up against a side table that was on the edge of the room.  
  
“Come here.” He growled before crushing his lips against hers, she moaned as his hand came up to tangle in her hair, his tongue demanding until she allowed him access. His sharp teeth nipped at her lower lip and she vaguely noticed that he was pulling the skirt of her dress up with his free hand, claws scratching lightly to tickle at her thighs.  
  
“Bull,” Ivy gasped and it only spurred him on, “someone might walk in.” His smile was lust and mischief as he scooped her up and sat her on the table, it was the perfect height for whatever he intended.  
  
“Someone could have found us in the forest yesterday but you still enjoyed it.” He rumbled before descending to kiss and bite at her neck, her breath growing rapid under his demanding attentions and her arousal growing quickly, his tongue tasted at her skin and he growled before hiking her skirt up roughly to sit at her hips and pulling her to him so her thighs were either side of his waist and his erection pressed against her sex. He ground against her, stimulating her clit through the fabric of his clothing and she drew a ragged breath, stretching her muscles as her body hummed in excitement.

She felt flushed, her body heated as he moaned and ground against her harder, her arms around his neck she stroked at the base of his horns and he jerked from the sensation, she blinked lazily and noticed the door was open and someone standing in the hallway.

Her surprised gasp and sudden tensing made Bull look at her questioningly before he looked to the door quickly, his hands tightened on her protectively as he straightened up and pulled her skirt lower to give Ivy a sense of privacy without acting ashamed of their actions.  
  
“Beresaad.” Iron Bull said flatly and Ivy could feel the blush of her face overheating, Beresaad simply turned on his heels and walked away without saying anything.  
  
“Shit.” Ivy swore quietly and looked at Bull, his face was blank as if he were calculating something in his head. “What do we do?”  
  
“Nothing.” He said quietly and helped her off the table, their mood well and truly ruined. “He’ll be gone in a couple of days, just stay away from him until then.” He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “Let’s get back to the party.”

 

The night was in full swing when Ivy felt the need to get some air, the embarrassment and worry of Beresaad seeing her with Bull still playing through her mind, so much so that she kept looking for Beresaad, hoping to see him continuing his normal diplomatic duties but she hadn’t seen sim since.

She broke out onto the walls and slumped against the building, the stone was rough against her shoulders even through the dress, the wolf pelt draped across her chest haphazardly as she breathed in the cool air and tried to take a moment to relax away from the nobles. It was only going to be one more night after this, then no more partying and back to saving the world.

A clatter of the door and rushed footsteps startled her, no one was supposed to be accessing the walls unless they were a guard, even she was not supposed to be there. It was a soldier, he looked flustered and glanced around until his gaze fell on her.  
  
“Captain,” He said with a rushed worry, “you need to follow me.” Ivy did so without hesitation, nearly jogging as she tried to keep up with the soldier’s hurried stride. “They just came in, started speaking in their language.”  
  
“Who did?”  
  
“The Qunari ma’am, I think they’re arresting Iron Bull.” He said as they burst into the hall through a side door, the mass of nobles blocking their path and she tried to push through them, she could hear Adaar speaking angrily while trying to remain diplomatic.  
  
“Beresaad, you do not have the right to-”  
  
“I have the _only_ right.” Ivy heard Beresaad reply as she broke through the crowd of people, the Sten had Iron Bull on his knees, their javelin pointed towards him even though he was not resisting, he was glancing around the crowd and when his eye fell on her he shook his head minutely as if to warn her away. The Sten noticed his movement however and followed his gaze to see her.  
  
“Beresaad.” One said simply and Beresaad turned to see Ivy, his face blank as he held up a scroll to Adaar which she snatched out of his hands.   
  
“Iron Bull is a part of the Inquisition, more so than the Qun.” Adaar protested as she unfurled the scroll hastily she frowned at the parchment. “I can’t read this.”  
  
“It is true that Iron Bull has been in your service under the guise of a mercenary, but as we are both aware, Inquisitor, he is Ben-Hassrath and currently in service to the Qunari.” Beresaad said loudly and the crowd murmured behind Ivy as an anxious chill ran through her veins. “His duty was to send information back to the Qunari, instead he has been filtering his reports through your administration and providing you with information he should not.” Ivy strode forward so she could be heard clearly, Iron Bull moved to speak or shake his head again but the Sten tightened their grips in warning.  
  
“You still do not have the right.” Ivy said and Adaar looked up at her with worry, still holding the paper. “You are Beresaad, not the Arishok, you cannot authorise his arrest.”  
  
“The parchment your Inquisitor holds is the warrant for the arrest of the Ben-Hassrath known as Hissrad or Iron Bull.” Ivy walked forward to Adaar who handed her the parchment, Ivy read the letter, her mouth forming the words silently, as far as she could tell it was exactly as Beresaad claimed. She looked to Adaar and nodded solemnly before handing the paper back.  
  
“Beresaad,” Josephine spoke up in an attempt to diffuse the situation, “we are still negotiating the terms of the alliance-”  
  
“There is little you can offer that would ensure his release to you.” Beresaad said flatly and Ivy tried to calm her breathing, he couldn’t do this. She couldn’t let him.  
  
“What are his crimes _exactly_.” Ivy demanded to know, if they could break it down to the little details maybe they could find a loop hole or claim they had falsified the charges.  
  
“Dereliction in his duty, as we discussed.” Beresaad calmly replied, his hands clasped behind his back. “Treason – as he has been receiving money from the Inquisition and in return been providing you with information pertinent to the Qun.” Adaar shook her head in disbelief. “Aiding and hiding a known fugitive of the Qun.” He said finally and Ivy’s head snapped up so she could glare at him, she could feel eyes on her as she calmly stepped closer to him, Cullen’s hand shooting out to grip at her arm as if to hold her back.  
  
“Those charges are exaggerated.” She accused him and he looked at her blankly.  
  
“They are what they are, Kadan.” He said quietly.

Ivy felt her heart hammering in her chest, if they took him he would be executed no doubt about it. The Qunari already doubted his loyalty, whether the warrant for his arrest was falsified or not they could still take him away. Ivy glanced down at Cullen’s hand on her arm and held up her hand as if to say she was alright, reluctantly he let go and stepped back. Ivy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, the sentence was on the tip of her tongue but she still spoke slowly as she formed the Qunlat words, with what she was going to say she didn’t want the others to interfere.   
  
“Why are you doing this?” The language was almost foreign on her tongue after refraining from its use for so long. Beresaad stepped into her space, barely half a metre away from her and she could see the Inquisition soldiers moving nervously out of the corner of her eye, no doubt from some wary movement their Commander made.  
  
“This is my duty, Kadan.” Beresaad replied in Qunlat carefully so he could understand her better. “Surely you are aware that what Hissrad has been doing is against the Qun, he has been under suspicion for some time.”  
  
“He has _fought_ for you and the Qun.” She hissed and she could hear Adaar demanding a translation of their conversation. “You trusted him with everything when you were the Arishok, surely his lifetime of service means something?”  
  
“I cannot give leniency to someone who has betrayed the Qun in this matter and your Inquisition has nothing to negotiate for him.” He said firmly and stepped away shaking his head. “He will be tried in Par Vollen and it is likely he will be executed. I’m sorry Kadan.”   
  
“I am worth more to you than Hissrad.” She said suddenly and she could see the confused glances of her friends out of the corner of her eyes.  
  
“Ivy-” Iron Bull warned before a Sten gave him a swift punch, his head snapped back with a growl and he glared up at the Sten, blood oozing from his lip. Beresaad looked her over carefully, calculating before nodding once.  
  
“You are.” He replied in Qunalt.  
  
“If I offer to take his place, will you let him go unharmed?” She asked as she fought to hold back the tremor in her hands.   
  
“I will not arrest you.” Beresaad said flatly, his arm sweeping sharply in a negative gesture. “You know my terms, you must come willingly.”  
  
“ _No._ ” Bull tried to stand and rush them, but was held in place tightly by the Sten, Ivy couldn’t bear to look at him, her heart shattering. Bull looked to Cullen and shouted in Common. “ _Stop her.”  
_  
“You do not have the right to arrest an Inquisition soldier.” Cullen growled and he stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. Beresaad did not break away from gazing at Ivy, did not acknowledge the Commander at all.  
  
“Kadan, it _must_ be your choice.” Beresaad continued in Qunlat. “I will not force the hand of your Commander, I will not test the resolve of the Ferelden King, I will leave here with you willingly – or with Hissrad in chains.” She glanced to Iron Bull, his blood dripping from his chin and his breathing laboured as he strained against his captors, he was shaking his head whispering for her to refuse.  
  
“Promise me you will not harm him, or pursue these charges once we are gone.” Ivy Insisted and he nodded once, her stomach plummeted and she swallowed thickly.  
  
“Step away from him, Captain.” Cullen ordered her and she turned to look at him blankly, she had shut her emotions down, a twinge of her jaw the only tell of her distress.  
  
“I will not.” Came her determined reply and the crowd around them gasped. Cullen stepped forward but Adaar held out her arm to block his stride.  
  
“Sten,” Beresaad spoke as he stood next to Ivy, “release Iron Bull to the Inquisition.” The Sten pulled and dragged Bull to be closer to Adaar as he roared and growled, fighting against the strong hands. His Chargers rushed up and held him back, Krem hissing words at him as Bull tried to rush Beresaad. “Iron Bull, due to the nature of your crimes I declare you Tal’Vashoth.” Ivy’s eyes closed and she breathed out steadily to hold back her trembling. It was her choice. “It is only by the grace of the Seer that you are not executed immediately, however once we have departed Skyhold you will be treated as all Tal’Vashoth are.”  
  
“I cannot allow you to take Volkev into custody.” Adaar said angrily. “She is a soldier of the Inquisition and a Ferelden citizen-”  
  
“No, Inquisitor.” Beresaad said firmly. “She is neither. You renounced her position from your military, you may have elevated her to your Advisor however she is no longer bound by your military tenets and as for her origins-” he looked to Ivy and she cast her eyes to the floor, “I doubt anyone truly knows. However, regardless of this, she is returning to the Qun willingly.” He looked to the Sten. “Prepare the mounts.”   
  
“Ivy,” Cullen said calmly but she knew him well enough to hear the sting of panic in his voice, “tell me he’s lying.”  
  
“Damn it Ivy.” Bull shouted, still resisting against his Chargers. “He planned this, _do not go with him_.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Kadan.” She said and her voice broke. Beresaad offered his arm to her and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, his free hand moving to cover hers as if to keep her there. They turned and walked out of the hall, Bull’s angry yells echoing behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're allowed to yell at me, that's ok.  
> Let me know your thoughts, thanks for sticking with me so far and we're getting pretty close to the final chapter (as you may have guessed) but I'm pretty sure I'll be tempted to do one-shots of this character in the future. :)


	31. Chapter 31

The mounts were waiting for them at the gates, large horses that could support the bulk of the Kossith and at the front was a massive black stallion, golden armour layered over its muscular form with Beresaad’s greataxe strapped to its side, stomping the ground it looked imposing in the flickering torchlight. Some Sten were hurriedly tying lanterns to the harnesses the horses wore, a green tinged light softly illuminating the area, it was hard to see now but in the dark it would reflect well off the snow and they would not be hindered by the night.

Inquisition soldiers stared at Ivy as she walked beside Beresaad quickly, some concerned and confused and some barely masking anger and disappointment, all of them gripping nervously at their weapons and unsure if they should step in to stop the Qunari from leaving. Harding and a few scouts Ivy recognised pushed forward to the edge of the crowd, the dwarven woman was trying to catch Ivy’s eyes as if to catch a signal to act but Ivy turned away, not wanting to either risk giving Harding a false signal or let her friend see the fear beginning to settle in her eyes.

Her hand remained clasped on Beresaad’s arm until they came to the stallion and a Sten approached to place his hand on her shoulder. Despite it being _her choice_ it was clear that they were not going risk her change of heart. The Sten waited with her until Beresaad had mounted his horse and then Ivy was turned suddenly, the Sten picking her up by the waist to lift her onto the saddle and sit on Beresaad’s lap, her dress making it impossible to ride normally and so she was side-saddle, encased by the Kossith’s arms as he picked up the reigns.

Ivy risked a look back to heart of Skyhold and the nobles that had gathered on the stairs, Cullen was watching grimly, the King beside him with one hand on the Commanders shoulder but she couldn’t see Bull, she thought she could hear him yelling faintly, but she couldn’t see him. She wished she could, wished she could see him one last time before she left, but it never happened. The horse was kicked into a gallop and Beresaad’s arm tightened around her waist to keep her balanced, soldiers stepping out of the way reluctantly as Ivy was taken away.

They rode hard throughout the night and into the day, the horses keeping up the pace well as they broke east into Ferelden. Ivy was wrapped not only in her wolf fur but also had a fur cloak draped over her body but it did little to protect against the barrage of icy cold air until they were down the mountain range and moving away from the snow. Hours later she was exhausted, legs and back aching from the riding as they stopped by a small river to give the horses and riders a rest.  
  
“Beresaad.” A Sten approached and assisted Ivy down from the horse as he spoke in Qunlat. “We were followed until we crossed into Ferelden, the scouts did not descend the mountain.”  
  
“Good, we will give the horses a chance to rest and then push on.” Beresaad said as he dismounted, taking the cloak from Ivy and packing it back into a bag.  
  
“What about Hissrad?” The Sten asked and Ivy looked to him sharply, Beresaad draped his arm around her waist, keeping her close to him.  
  
“Hissrad will be tied up in the politics for at least a day.” Beresaad said flatly knowing that Ivy was listening. “Adaar will not permit him to leave or at the very least try to talk him out of it.”  
  
“He will track us with his Chargers.”  
  
“We must split up.” Beresaad agreed. “Take six along our normal route, three to the south and one with me to the west.”  
  
“Why not wait for him? We can kill them easily.” The Sten questioned and Beresaad shook his head.  
  
“I will not give him the chance.” He said firmly. “Hissrad knows this land and his men, here he has the advantage but by splitting up he will be forced to divide his own, they will be much easier to kill then.”  
  
“And the Inquisition?”  
  
“Will do nothing. They have every noble in Thedas watching their next move, they cannot act against the Qun.” Ivy’s stomach sank as he spoke, he was right, they could not risk a war with the Qunari and if they came after her that’s what would happen. “We move out in fifteen minutes.”

Ivy washed her face with the river water and breathed steadily to control her nerves. Glancing around the area she looked for an escape, the river was too wide and deep to get far quickly, especially dressed as she was, and the Sten were on all sides resting and preparing to continue the journey so she could not run without being seen. It would be better to try and sneak away when they had split up and there were less of them to watch her, but that meant going farther away from Skyhold.

The minutes passed quickly and she was lifted onto the horse again as her muscles complained sorely, Beresaad holding her to him until she could get somewhat comfortable. He turned his stallion and gave the orders, the group breaking up to ride quickly and throw off any chance of pursuers and meet again in an Antivan port before they sailed to Par Vollen.  
  
“If anyone has not reported dockside by the next half moon go to Par Vollen.” Beresaad ordered. “The land is dangerous, take no risks.” The Sten left in their groups and Beresaad guided the stallion to the west, riding hard and followed by only one Sten.

 

Heading west meant crossing the Frostbacks again but they managed it quickly, descending the western slopes to break through into The Emerald Graves that bordered the Arbour Wilds.

They made their way into the sparse forest that bordered the mountains and immediately left the unkempt road they had been following, breaking away to delve into the rapidly thickening forest. The further they went the larger the trees became and the more cautious they had to be, Beresaad stopped them several times to scan the area and listen – he was becoming increasingly worried about being ambushed as the terrain provided more cover and places to hide.

Near dusk they came across a large rocky clearing that had a small river meandering through it before disappearing into a cluster of thick forest again, with only a hand signal he informed the Sten they would be setting up camp there.

Dropping from the horse she nearly collapsed on her knees before catching herself. Standing in itself was agony, let alone walking or running. Beresaad dismounted behind her before taking off a canvas that had been neatly rolled up at the rear of the saddle.  
  
“You will help set up camp.” He instructed and pushed the canvas into Ivy’s arms, she threw it down distastefully onto the large, flat river stones and shot him an incredulous look.  
  
“I’m not going to help _you._ ” She rasped and took two steps towards the river before the Sten blocked her path warily. Beresaad calmly picked up the canvas and walked to her, the sound of his boots scraping along the stones sending a twisting shiver down Ivy’s spine like nails on a chalkboard. His hand reached from behind her and clasped at her neck gently, the pad of his thumb massaging at her nape as his fingertips tilted her head back, her hair pressing against his chest he was standing so close behind her.  
  
“You will help, or you will freeze.” He said simply before roughly pressing the canvas to her chest again and striding away to unpack his mount. Ivy held onto it and sighed, eyes closing tight before looking down at the animal hide in her hand. Sten pointed to the small cluster of trees nearby and waited until her feet were moving before he stopped watching her.

The tents were barely that, nothing like the white of the Inquisition or even the ragged ones that they were afforded in Kirkwall from the Viscount’s charity. Large pieces of cured animal hide were stitched together to create one length that was soft enough to shift and roll up, it smelled oddly like herbs beneath the scent of animal tallow, likely what had been used to waterproof it. Ivy had to use a length of rope that was safely tucked inside the roll to create a line between two trees and drape the hide over the top, heavy river stones at the base meant she could prop out the sides and create the V shape needed to finish creating the shelter.

“Rain approaches.” Beresaad rumbled and Ivy spun to see him placing a pack down near the small campfire that the Sten had created. “We must rest while we can.” The fur that had been wrapped around Ivy when they left Skyhold was placed on the ground in the shelter and Beresaad looked to her expectantly. Ivy’s stomach dropped, he expected her to _sleep_ with him? Of course he did. She shook her head minutely and turned to face the campfire, squatting down beside it to soak up what little warmth it provided. She preferred to freeze first.

Beresaad let out a low growl before his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her up effortlessly. With a half shriek she was carted over to the shelter, pushing against the dense muscle of his arm as he ducked into the shelter and sat down, drawing her back to his chest and immobilising her kicking legs with his free arm.  
  
“Kadan,” he spoke in a warning, “We are far from any villages, distanced from our Sten. It would be foolish to continue in this stubborn way.”  
  
“You expect me to simply obey?” She rasped angrily as she felt his breath along the top of her head.  
  
“I expect you to use the intelligence you possess.” He countered. “If you fell sick here, you would die easily. Your attire would do nothing to keep the chill at bay, the riding would exhaust you further and despite our skills neither I nor Sten are healers – you are the only one.” Ivy stilled but her heart continued to beat dramatically, the sick feeling in her gut lurching each time his fingers flexed or shifted against her.

Thunder rolled faintly from the mountain and almost on cue the rain began to fall softly, pattering against the hide. Beresaad let Ivy go enough to have only one hand on her waist as he leaned to drag the pack into the shelter, picking up a short sword and placing it on the ground behind him. His massive axe was still near the mounts, no point in bringing it in to defend yourself when it’s so unwieldly in close quarters.

He leaned down onto his side carefully and pulled her with him, his sighing grunt of exhaustion almost humanizing him as he pulled her back to his chest and held her close. She tensed automatically as the line of her body was pulled against his and his arm snaked along her torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, palm covering her face as she shivered from both the cold and her mounting fears.  
  
“It was your choice to come with me.” He rumbled as he shifted her hair out of her face. “I will not abuse that faith by forcing you.” He said bluntly and it didn’t make her feel any better despite the tight knot of fear in her chest loosening minutely.  
  
“Faith.” She rasped and laughed bitterly. He backed her into a corner and considered the result of that _faith_? In _him?_  
  
“We push on in a few hours.” He continued unperturbed by her reply and Ivy cringed at the thought of getting on a horse again so soon. Her whole body was aching, the cold hard ground doing nothing to ease it and she could tell by how stiffly Beresaad moved and shifted that he felt the same.

 

Despite the conditions he fell asleep somewhat quickly, Ivy counting the rhythm of his breaths until they were long, deep and steady. She turned carefully in his arms, facing him and making out his features in the dark. His silver hair reflected the moonlight that seeped into the shelter and carefully she raised her arm to skirt over him. If she could reach the sword beside him that would be a first step to something else, if she would use the weapon on him or use it as defence later on she didn’t know but it was better to be armed than not.

Even lying on his side he was massive, she wouldn’t have been able to wrap her arms around him and touch her fingers so when she struggled to reach over him she had to hold back a huff of frustration. Carefully and slowly she pushed up, getting one knee beneath her and leaning over him. He shifted and she froze on the spot, her pulse deafening in her ears as she held her breath and watched him like a hawk until his breathing returned to its deep rhythm.

Her fingers touched the scabbard of the sword soundlessly and she glanced to Beresaad again in caution before leaning in to grasp at it properly. She gripped it, one finger hooked over the hilt to prevent it from sliding out of its scabbard and bit down on her lip in concentration as she slowly lifted the sword.  
  
“And when I’m dead what would your next step be?”  
  
Ivy froze and looked down to Beresaad, his dark eyes were watching her, glittering with a curious anger. She moved quickly, getting a hand on the hilt and drawing the scabbard off in a rush, letting it land outside of the shelter. Beresaad moved just as quickly, thrusting his palm out and striking Ivy just below her sternum, the force driving the air from her lungs and sending her onto her back.

A gasping rattle escaped her throat as she stared at the shelter above her, blinking as she tried to stop her heart from overworking and breathe properly again. She heard the scrape of the sword against the ground as Beresaad picked it up and tried to roll away, getting as far as her left shoulder off the ground before his hand was on her chest and the cold metal of the sword against her throat.

He didn’t speak, merely looked down at her with disappointment and shook his head before grabbing her arm and rolling her onto her stomach suddenly, pinning her wrist to her back as she heard him rummage through his pack. Her breathing had returned to gasp heavily as she craned her head to see what he was doing and try to wriggle from his iron grip, a moment later he had both her wrists and was tying them together roughly behind her back.  
  
“Let me go-” she growled and was harshly flipped onto her back again, Beresaad kneeling above her with one chastising finger held up, his angry expression stealing away any other words she had.  
  
“No.” he said roughly and paused to claw back his composure. “No.” he said again more calmly and settled back down, pulling her to him again with a jerk of his arm. Ivy tried to suppress the nerves that were causing her to shiver and closed her eyes against the tears that threatened.

 

She didn’t sleep that night and dared not to check to see if he was watching her. Any movement she made, any uncomfortable shift in her position was met with a tightening of his arm around her and she was gradually pulled closer and closer to him.

When the first faded morning light began to eke through the forest he stirred, a slow stretch of muscles and malcontent sighing that preceded a rough morning greeting and a press of hot lips against the skin just behind her jaw. She flinched at the contact but he did not notice, or if he did he simply did not care.

She was dragged out of the shelter and accompanied to the cover of the forest to relieve herself but not allowed movement of her arms, thankfully she was used to peeing in front of people enough now to only feel angry at being a captive instead of awkward. When they returned to the camp she was ordered to sit.

“We should begin to head north again Beresaad.” The Sten spoke as Beresaad worked to pack the tent away while keeping watch over Ivy who sat with bound wrists by the campfire. “We will miss the deadline if we do not.” Beresaad paused a moment, crouching by the animal hide he was rolling he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, unseen by his Sten.

Slowly he stood with the short sword in hand and barely two steps later thrust the sword deep into the stomach of the unsuspecting man. Sten doubled over, a surprised snarl forming from his lips before it was chased by a spluttering cough of blood, the thick red liquid pattering against Beresaad’s skin and onto the wet stones beneath them. Ivy gasped and scrambled backwards from the pair, her mouth agape as Beresaad drew the sword out with a wash of red and with the gentlest of pushes let the Qunari fall backwards into the river.

Ivy twisted quickly to get up and run, the dress making it difficult to move as Beresaad simply strode forward and wrapped one arm around her waist and held her to him. She screamed and whimpered as he shushed her, trying to comfort her as if he had not just killed a loyal subordinate.  
  
“It’s over,” he said calmly as Ivy shook and tried to hold back the onset of panicked tears, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
  
“You _killed_ him.” She gasped and he nodded.  
  
“I had to or he would have reported our whereabouts to the Qunari.” Her knees gave out and he pulled her to his lap, sitting cross legged as he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head to his shoulder. “We’re free now.” He said quietly as her body began to shake, she stared at the sword lying on the ground still covered in thick blood. “No one will be able to follow us.”

Beresaad packed his belongings onto the mount and washed the sword as Ivy sat and stared at the ground, still processing the shock of what had happened to the Sten. Moments passed where she looked to see if she could run but the Beresaad stayed close, within range to simply reach out and stop her. He let the other horse run free with a slap on its hindquarters, another trail for any trackers to follow, and mounted his horse behind Ivy, untying her wrists before kicking the stallion into a gallop.

When dawn broke fully they had left the Emerald Graves, bursting out of the forest and into a stretch yellow grass plains that cut a swathe between two forests. Beresaad slowed down and scanned the area. The trees were leaning, a result of the strong winds blowing down from the mountains and in front of them on the horizon a large forest began, the edge of The Wilds. He slowed to a stop and Ivy sighed, reaching up she pushed back the hood of her dress and gazed around, there wasn’t another soul in sight, no evidence of a road or settlements not even the scattered tracks of animals and her heart sank. Beresaad leaned forward and smiled to her softly, this isolation must have been harmony to him, a safety from pursuit and from the Qun.

Ivy looked up and smiled tightly to him, she was wary of him, of provoking him into tying her up or being on the receiving end of the sword. She knew now that he had never truly recovered from the madness he suffered from in Kirkwall, he had just been concealing it. Her mind reeled with the possibilities of what could happen next, he could hurt her, beat or kill her – or worse he could succeed in his plan and detain her long enough to hide her from the world, wearing her mental fortitude down until some kind of Stockholm Syndrome set in. He was dangerous before when he was bound by the strict lifestyle of the Qun, but now he had chosen to become Tal’Vashoth. He chose to escape with her and turn his back on everything he knew – how long until he decides that she is to blame for it?

Ivy shivered and Beresaad leaned down, inch by inch as if he were fearful before planting a chaste kiss on her lips, his hand rising to brush at her jaw gently as she slowly turned her head away.

He held up his hand in front of Ivy and dangled an object before her. The dragon’s tooth seemed to watch her as warily as she watched it, the symbol of her new servitude, of course he would have reclaimed it from her quarters.  
  
“Kadan.” He said lowly as he tied the necklace around her neck, his hands burning against her skin where they brushed her and the tooth heavy and cold against her breastbone. He regarded the object with a satisfied smile for a moment before roughly kissing her again, her sounds of protest silenced as he ravaged her mouth. He kicked his stallion into a gallop suddenly, grinning as he headed straight for the treeline.

 

The Wilds were quiet, almost frighteningly so, but every now and then a loud cry of a bird or animal would echo through the trees like a scream and make Ivy startle and scan the area for the source of the noise only to see or hear nothing until the next isolated noise minutes later.

Her nerves were completely frayed, the long days of travelling and sleepless nights wearing her down not to mention her captor watching her every move with his measuring gaze. He didn’t seem to sleep either but it wasn’t affecting him like it did her. Where she looked exhausted with dark circles around her eyes he seemed in control still.

He mediated when they stopped and Ivy would try to move quietly, hoping he had fallen asleep accidentally but when she moved his eyes would crack open to watch her and she would have to pretend she was just shifting where she sat and settle back down. But she needed a better plan to leave, the horse far too large for her to ride effectively and she wouldn’t get far on foot unless she could lose him in the thickness of the forest.

It continued on like this for days, travelling further and further into the forest they were quickly approaching what could be considered the edge of Thedas. Where they were travelling now Ivy couldn’t recognise and Beresaad made an offhanded comment about being _off the map_ after watching Ivy try to silently spot landmarks for a few hours.

The only signs of civilisation were ruins, fallen pillars they accidentally stumbled upon or rocks that were unnaturally shaped. They had even found the face of a statue, twisted and snarling as it was weathered away slowly, jutting out of the ground and half covered in vines.

Ivy stopped talking after realising that she would struggle to find her way back out of the labyrinth-like forest, not that she was going out of her way to talk to Beresaad in the first place. She stopped looking at him too, wanting to bury herself in solitude and try to think of an escape plan. But as she distanced herself he pressed closer, as she looked away from him he moved to stand in front of her and force eye contact. As she stopped speaking he did too, taking the opportunity to become more and more hands on with her and all the while she was not left alone for a moment, not even a second.

Her mind drifted to her friends that she left behind. Iron Bull must have been so angry at her, making such a decision and playing into Beresaad’s hands so easily. Essentially ending her life with him and walking headfirst into a terrible, risky and likely short future. Her already self-broken heart managed to crack just a bit more thinking about him.

Cullen wouldn’t have blamed her, not at first, but instead hated himself for not taking action despite being restricted by the political mess that was created. Her stomach twinged knowing she had put him through so much while he was vulnerable, twinged enough that the guilt made itself clearly known as she stumbled off to the side and retched up what little Beresaad had forced her to eat that day.

Beresaad continued with his paranoid behaviour, often stopping in his tracks to listen and glance around at seemingly nothing before reaching out to grab Ivy by the wrist and pull her closer as if he were expecting an attack. Even at night he would wake up and arm himself to stand outside the shelter for a length of time before giving up and returning to run his hands over her side and fall back asleep.

Soon two weeks had passed and they were deep enough in the Wilds that Ivy was convinced that no one could successfully track them. In a confirmation of her fears Beresaad set up a more permanent camp in a sheltered area, intending to remain for some time before venturing north again under the guise of anonymity. Supplies were beginning to run low and so he set traps throughout the forest, catching small game to sustain them for the time being. Ivy tried to sneak away during this time, making it as far as a clearing before he caught and reprimanded her. The dark marks of his discipline harsh against her pale skin and welting where the rope bound her and hobbled any near-future escape attempts.

It was in the fourth week that he finally broke out of the silent captor routine and reached out to touch her tentatively, his large hand reaching across her shoulders and rubbing at her neck gently. Ivy jerked herself away and rubbed at the phantom feeling of his touch, scowling at the campfire as the sun began to set.  
  
“Your anger towards me will pass.” He said calmly as he watched her shift away from him. “It will take time, but it will lessen with each day.”  
  
“No, Beresaad.” Ivy responded harshly. “I will die an old woman before I forgive you for this.” He sighed through his nose and placed another log on the fire, Ivy watching his movements carefully.  
  
“I do not seek your forgiveness.” He said flatly and the tone made an apprehensive shiver dance along her spine. “But I do hope you will find happiness in your place beside me.”  
  
“ _Happiness?”_ Ivy said incredulously. “I was _happy_ where I was.”  
  
“After some time has passed we can resume your work for the Inquisition.” He said offhandedly and Ivy shook her head at him.  
  
“It wasn’t just that, you manipulated me into leaving my friends, leaving Bull-” Her sentence was cut off as he lunged forward, he was always quick for someone his size, one moment sitting and the other he was pinning her to the ground, one hand gripping tightly at her throat as he loomed over her. Not strangling but threatening to none the less. His expression was contorted in anger, a low growl rumbling out of his throat as he leaned closer and his hair fell onto her shoulder softly. Her ragged breathing was made harder by the heavy pounding of her heart, pulse racing and she knew he could feel her panic under his hand.  
  
“Never speak of him.” Beresaad warned her and she tried to swallow, he shifted closer and leaned down to place a delicate kiss on her neck, his hand pulling at her neck and shoulder to allow himself access. Ivy’s hands fisted where they lay on the ground, dirt pouring through her fingers.  
  
“Let me go.” She said with a shaking voice and he ignored her, sucking on her skin leisurely as her stomached churned nervously.  
  
“The both of you lied to me so easily.” He said with hard disappointment. “I expected that from a Ben-Hassrath, but not you. Not someone who had claimed to love me.” He pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers, the rough skin biting as he looked down at her lips.  
  
“Beresa-” his grip tightened and one of her hands flew to her neck, trying to pry his strong fingers from her throat.  
  
“It wasn’t the only time you lied to me was it?” He said and his voice was low, growling as he nipped at her parted lips. “You’ve been lying to me from the beginning.” She shook her head minutely and tried to get her feet to push against the ground and move away from him but the dirt simply shifted against her heels as he held her in place. “I didn’t realise it until I was court marshalled, I was simply too blind to see it. Couldn’t comprehend that _my_ Kadan would side with Bas over me. But when that pirate laughed in my face and told me you had schemed against me the entire time-” Ivy’s hand scrabbled along the dirt and her fingers met the rough shape of a rock half buried in the ground, she pushed against it, working it out of the ground slowly.  
  
“You were mad.” She rasped. “I couldn’t let you go on.”  
  
“This is why the Qun forbids such relationships.” He said almost sadly. “I was a fool to let myself be blinded, to be manipulated by you. But I couldn’t give you up, and when I _finally_ found you it was to only be deceived again.” The rock barely moved under her hand and she pushed harder, white lights flashing in the corners of her vision as it became harder and harder to breathe.  
  
“If I told you the truth you would have killed me.” She gasped. “I did what I had to, to save myself, to save _everyone_.”  
  
“Your words mean nothing.” He growled. “You cry that I _manipulated_ you as you lied to me, that I suffered madness as you schemed against me. You know our futures and dangle it before us as a gift only to take it away.”  
  
“I never-”  
  
“Had you told me the truth about Kirkwall I would have never stayed.” He said flatly, his voice dropping dangerously low. “I _trusted_ you. And I lost _everything_.” He shook his head slowly, eyes squeezing shut in grief as the rock shifted underneath her palm. “You should have killed me yourself.”  
  
“I couldn’t.” She gasped, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.  
  
“Why lie to me now-”  
  
“I _loved_ you.” Her voice broke into a half sob and he watched her with a hard, unreadable gaze. “I begged you not to go to war, to go back to Par Vollen with me.”  
  
“We couldn’t, you know we couldn’t.” He barely whispered, head shaking again making his silver hair jostle in the slight wind. “I had to protect you, don’t you understand that?”  
  
“Maker, Beresaad, let me go.”  
  
“Kadan, my love, I have spent every day since Kirkwall searching for you. Now finally, _finally_ , you are with me again. It’s not perfect, it’s not what we deserve but I will not let you slip away from me again. I will do anything to keep you by my side.” He frowned and let a slight growl slip from his throat, anger settling over his expression like a dark cloud as his fingers twitched and flexed against her throat.  
  
“I will _not_ lose you again nor allow you to be stolen from me, you will not return to Hissrad, you are _mine._ ” He hissed and Ivy gripped the rock tightly, swinging it to hit him hard against the side of his temple. He growled and flinched, only moving slightly and Ivy hit him again, his blood splattering in droplets of her cheek as he slumped momentarily, giving Ivy the chance to scramble backwards and crawl to her feet.

His hand shot out and grabbed her skirt, the sudden resistance making her fall forward onto her chest and she felt him grip her ankle tightly. She screamed, kicking out at him as he crawled up and gripped her shoulder, rolling her onto her back and backhanding her hard across her right cheek. Ivy spat blood and the coppery taste flooded her senses as they reeled. Tight pain in her hair as her head was yanked back bare her throat, his grip in her curls tight as he crushed his lips against hers, his tongue invading her mouth in a sickly glide. She punched him, quick successive strikes against his kidney and he groaned in pain, pulling back to hit her head against the ground hard and make her vision swim.

Hearing herself groan in pain was the about the only thing that kept her alert enough to stay conscious and the adrenaline surged, bringing her focus back to the fight. Pain lanced along her thigh as Beresaad clawed her in his attempt to hike up the long skirt and she reached up and gripped at one of his horns, yanking it back hard and forcing him to tilt his head up and back. Striking the bridge of his nose with her palm she felt the cartilage give way, blood gushing forth as he roared and moved his hand to cradle at his now broken nose. Shoving at his shoulder she sent him slumping back into the dirt and she rolled to her feet, sprinting away from the camp and into the thick forest.

 

Ducking against the trunk of a tree she hid and fought to calm her breathing, she could hear him trudging through the undergrowth and cutting down plants and smaller trees that got in his way with his axe, the air splitting with a low sound each time it swung. She leaned down and gathered her skirts to bunch in front of her so they wouldn’t peek out from the cover of the tree, the blue fabric would be easy to spot among the brown and green of the forest.  
  
“Do not be foolish Kadan.” Beresaad growled from nearby and the swatting of a plant sounded close, close enough that she didn’t dare to peek around from the trunk. “We must stay together in this place.” She held her breath, heart thudding heavily in her chest for what seemed like minutes until the sounds drifted away as he searched in another direction.

Hesitantly she moved, her hand brushing along the wood of the trunk as she peered around and double checked that he was gone – the clearing before her empty of anything but plants and dirt. She let out a shaky breath and shifted from the safe cover of the tree, jogging as quickly and quietly as she could through the undergrowth. Her skirts snagged on fallen branches but she ignored them, the fabric ripping and tearing as she wound through the forest.

It was getting dark now, the sun barely half an hour from setting completely. Her face burned where he had hit her and her muscles ached from the trials they had been put through over the weeks but she kept jogging north, inching ever closer to freedom as stray branches clawed at her skin and she carelessly bumped into the trunks of trees.  
  
“Keep going.” She whispered breathlessly to herself as her body began to fatigue, the adrenalin wearing off. She paused for a moment against a large tree trunk, taking a moment to catch her breath and take mental notes of her condition.

Her shoes were not designed for traipsing through a forest and were falling apart, the blue fabric that had once matched her dress was now scuffed and worn, the soles separating from the upper fabric. She would abandon them soon and continue barefoot, shit, it wasn’t like she hadn’t gone without shoes before. Her bare arms were covered in scratches, bruises, welts. Half from the forest and half from Beresaad’s hospitality. And the marks didn’t end there, a litany of them making their way across her body. Her thigh stung from the clawing, her face throbbed in heat and lips tasted vaguely of blood. Looking down at herself her hands shook, holding them to her stomach she let in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes against the tears of exhausted panic that welled. She needed to focus now, she could fall apart in panic later.

She focussed down into her core, eyes closed and breathing deeply as she listened for anything that didn’t belong in the forest, she knew he would find her soon, she knew it was likely he could track her better than she could cover her own tracks and that if she had a chance in hell of getting out it would be because of dumb luck rather than outsmarting or outfighting him. She shook her head, pushing away the doubts that were creeping in and, after checking her surroundings again, pushed away from the tree and continued north at a jogging pace.

 

The tree line broke and gave way to flat, volcanic river stones before a crystal clear stream and more forest beyond it. Ivy couldn’t remember this area specifically and the moonlight did little to illuminate any features that would spur her memory but the steam did give some hope – she could drink and stave off dehydration for a little longer.

Checking her surroundings she warily stepped out from the cover of the trees, she shivered and hesitated as she stepped further and further away from cover, the strong moonlight bouncing off her skin and the wet stones. Her dress may have been good to hide at night – midnight blue, better than black in the darkness – but her skin shone like a beacon.

Kneeling by the water she looked around once more before scooping water up with her hands and drinking deeply, the back of her mind warning about contagions and bacteria in the water but the risks of dehydration were much higher than disease right now.

She peeled off her shoes and dropped them beside her, they were broken and useless now, causing blisters and hindering her movement. Time to go barefoot. Putting her hand flat on the ground to balance herself as she stood she bit back a hiss of pain as her finger was cut on a piece of jagged rock. She lifted her hand and sucked at the small cut automatically, not that it eased the pain at all, and glared at the rock that had injured her.

The rock itself had been broken as if it had dropped from a great height or someone purposefully tried to crack it in half, the centre of it had shattered, leaving long shards to sit alongside each other like pieces of a puzzle. Ivy picked up a shard, thick and sharp like a stone age weapon she gripped it and gave a testing swing. It wasn’t perfect, barely useful and the length of a dagger blade, but it was better than nothing.

One considering look at her long skirts was enough to prompt her to cut the fabric off at her knees, the soft material was surprisingly strong but once she had worked a hole into it the fabric ripped easily – and terribly loudly. Once free of the confining skirt Ivy cut the discarded length twice more, making long strips, two for her wrists because they were hurting like hell and one to wrap around the base of the shard of rock she picked up, it would be easier to wield of she wasn’t worried about cutting her hand open.

A heavy clatter jerked her attention to her right and she saw him. Beresaad stood watching her metres away, his heavy boots still scraping against the rocks. His axe was strapped to his back as he raised one hand to her, urging her to calm as she stood slowly.  
  
“Kadan,” he said slowly, swallowing as he locked his gaze at her and inched forwards. “This is madness. Alone, in the dark, in strange territory. Come back with me-”  
  
“Never.” She said and inched back as he stalked her, Ivy had the distinct feeling that he were a hunter and she a deer by the way he tried to keep her calm and herd her in the direction he wanted.  
  
“Do you truly want to do this?” He growled. “You think I would not find you? I will _hunt_ you down.”  
  
“I can’t fight you.” She said, her own voice hollow to her ears. “I can’t outsmart you. But I sure as hell can outrun you.” One jump and she landed on a boulder that was jutting out of the stream, her feet slipping and sending a thrill of panic up her legs. Beresaad yelled her name and sprinted towards her, his heavy armour barely encumbering him at all and Ivy jumped again to land on the far side of the stream. She sprinted to the thick trees in what she hoped was still a northern direction and heard him splashing through the water behind her.

She ducked and weaved through the forest, trusting in herself that she would judge a jump correctly and that she _was_ outrunning him. For once her smaller stature and speed were exactly what she needed and she used it, used every bit of training she had learned in the past few years to propel herself forwards.

She ran for what felt like hours but the moon had barely shifted in the sky, her lungs were burning, her heart pounding faster and harder than it ever had before and soon she had to stop and take a long, deep breath to calm herself back down. She stepped forward trying to listen for movement, difficult over the sound of blood rushing in her ears, but was greeted by the terribly loud sound of something cracking beneath her feet and a quick slithering over leaves before the tell-tale sound of a projectile. Ivy had a moment to remember the traps that Beresaad had set to catch game and try to lunge to the side before a sharp pain lanced through the flesh of her left arm, a sharpened stick protruding from her bicep.

Her cry of pain was somewhat muffled into a grunt and she leaned against a trunk and tried to stop herself from hyperventilating. The stick had gone deep, almost going through to the far side of her arm and blood was dripping steadily. She raised her hand to pull it out and hesitated, if she pulled it out she risked bleeding too much and loosing too much blood meant she could faint and just be found by Beresaad. She didn’t much like the idea of being trapped and dragged back to camp like some unlucky beast and swore under her breath. The fucking thing hurt like hell.

She pulled the length of fabric from her wrist and draped it around the back of her neck. It was awkward, her injured arm had sudden limited mobility but it was bearable. It wasn’t bearable when Ivy had to snap the jutting length of wood, the movement convincing her that it had penetrated her muscle deeply. She bandaged her arm tightly, winding the fabric around the small piece of wood that stuck out of her flesh to keep it still and to halt the bleeding, pulling the knot of it tight with her teeth and letting out a whimper of pain as the bandage jerked.

One more deep breath and she pushed on, if Beresaad was nearby he would have heard the trap going off or her agonized cry, those sharp sounds carrying too easily in the stillness of the forest. She jogged for a while more before pausing by a large boulder, her head spinning from the exertion and trauma. The sound of deep, rumbling laughter rolled through the forest and she ducked into the shadow of the boulder instinctively, the laugh hadn’t been too close but it _was_ Beresaad.

“Did you fall into a trap Kadan?” His yell was far away, but it was hard to tell distance in the winding undergrowth. Ivy growled to herself and edged around the boulder, moving low and from cover to cover.

 

The sun was rising, blood red clouds against a pale blue sky and Ivy was exhausted, slumping from tree to tree as she forced herself to keep going, stone dagger in hand and arm red from her own blood. Beresaad would taunt her every now and then, his voice rolling through the forest and muddling her sense of direction but giving her the adrenaline boost she needed to push on.

She was about to lose the cover of the dark, the forest not thick enough now to hide her properly and the lack of tall undergrowth worrying. The floor was just a thick carpet of leaves and while it was better than dirt someone who was a skilled tracker could still follow her easily, her steps were not light anymore, her movements were sloppy and she was probably leaving blood marks everywhere. Sunlight would definitely put Beresaad at an advantage.

A tree root hooked her foot and she fell forward, breaking her fall with her good arm and skidding along the leaves to a halt. She huffed and a leaf swirled away with her breath, floating to land on the ground just inches from her splayed out arm. Exhaustion blanketed her, everything ached and she felt herself falling forward again before she caught herself, the feeling of vertigo after you jerk awake suddenly sending her panic into overdrive as she pushed herself up.

She heard footsteps, heavy against the leaves not far behind her and she broke into a sprint, hearing the footsteps becoming faster behind her. Stumbling into a clearing she skidded to a halt, heart leaping into her throat as a Sten crouched by a dismantled trap. He turned suddenly, drawing his greatsword at the noise she had created and they both froze.  
  
“B-Bull?” She could barely speak, barely breathe, her legs refused to step forward. The greatsword waivered for a moment and began to lower slowly, one eye wide as he stared at her. He sucked in air as if he had stopped breathing and opened his mouth to speak.

The footsteps brought Ivy back to reality and she cut off his words with a gesture and a panicked shake of her head, she stepped back quickly to the cover of the trees as he watched her in confusion. Moments later Beresaad burst into the clearing, moving past Ivy as she hid and stopping short as he came face to face with Iron Bull.

Ivy took her chance, stepping out of the shadow brandishing the makeshift dagger and gripped onto the harness strap that sat along his back, using it as leverage to drive the dagger deep into Beresaad’s lower back, striking at his kidney.

Beresaad arched forward and howled, throwing her grip off the harness and grabbing her arm to hurl her into a tree metres across the clearing. She hit it hard, leaves cascading down from the impact of her body and she slumped at the base, head ringing and lungs battling to purchase air. She watched him pull the dagger out of himself and snarl at it, throwing it to the ground distastefully between them.

Beresaad was furious, his breathing laboured as he shifted his focus back to Iron Bull and growled.  
  
“Hissrad.” He spat and Bull watched him darkly, a dangerously calm contrast to Beresaad’s violent anger.

“Beresaad.” Bull said calmly although his voice was deeper than Ivy had never heard it before. “I’m going to kill you _very_ slowly for what you’ve done to her.” Beresaad laughed and pulled his greataxe from his back, brandishing the weapon confidently as Bull raised his again.

“I was going to kill her quickly.” Beresaad said with a growl and Ivy struggled to stand up as she used the tree as a support. “But now she will suffer for _your_ crimes.” Bull growled at that and surged forward, his greatsword meeting the metal haft of Beresaad’s axe with a vibrating impact, the blade barely biting into the haft as it slid and created minute sparks.

Weapons locked together they battled with their strength, trying to force each other to back down. Bull shifted his weight, their weapons forced to lower to the side and Bull smashed his head against Beresaad’s already broken nose. Beresaad howled and stepped back, breaking their lock and growling as blood poured anew from his nose. Bull laughed and circled him slowly, his grin feral as he watched his opponent.  
  
“Bit of a sensitive spot?” Bull taunted as Beresaad glared at him. “It’s what you deserve for underestimating my Kadan.” Bull spun, swinging his massive sword and Beresaad blocked him, parrying the sword down and away and taking the opening to uppercut Bull’s jaw. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was sickening and Bull’s grunt almost echoed through the trees before he recovered and swung again, blocking the descent of the axe and countering with a kick.

Ivy watched them, heart pounding as she went to her knees in the leaves and rummaged through them to find her dagger. The sound of metal on metal was frightening in the still and silent forest as was Bull’s shout of pain as Beresaad scored his chest. Her fingers felt the edge of the dagger and Ivy didn’t hesitate, gripping the fabric hilt and running forward into the fight.

Beresaad noticed her movement and spun to block her strike, throwing her off balance before he twisted to block Bull’s. He was relentless, almost everywhere at once despite the freely bleeding wounds and how exhausted he must have been. Ivy sliced along his forearm and received an elbow to her collarbone that sent her falling backwards, a quick roll saving her life as the axe came down hard on the ground beside her. Bull kicked at Beresaad’s grip on the axe but it didn’t disarm the larger man, the axe soaring up to strike at Bull with a trail of leaves as Ivy jumped to her feet, crouching by Beresaad as he faced Bull she sliced at the back of his legs, opening up a calf muscle as he faltered.

Bull took the opportunity to lunge, his sword darting quickly but Beresaad sidestepped awkwardly, using the haft to use Bull’s size against him and propel him forward, his footing slipping on the leaves and sending him rolling. He then kicked back, catching Ivy in the guts as she prepared to strike him from behind again, sending her sprawling on her back and wheezing for air, certain a rib or two had snapped.

Bull was scurrying to his knees, blood smeared down his chest as he searched for his weapon that had flown out of his hand. Beresaad was towering over him, axe raised.

Ivy rolled to her knees and sprinted as the axe came down, launching herself at Beresaad’s back. As she collided with him she screamed in pain, her injured arm wrapping around his thick neck and the top of her shoulder sliced open by the tip of his horn. It was enough to throw him off balance and as Bull rolled away the axe bit into the ground. Her dagger sunk into his chest beside the scar that Hawke had made years ago and he jerked, a gasp escaping his lips as he fell to his knees, hands still on his axe.

“You were right.” Ivy said shakily as she pulled the dagger out of his chest, the stone thick with blood. “I should have killed you myself.” She brought the dagger up, still clinging to Beresaad’s broad back and thrust it down into the curve of his neck. A wet hitch of breath escaped him before he slumped forwards, Ivy sliding off of him to watch him sprawl lifeless on the forest floor.

 

The return to Skyhold was wonderfully uneventful and despite their injuries they made good time, it was definitely helped by a patch of Prophets Laurel plants they found in the Emerald Graves which worked perfectly as a sedative and allowed them to ride fast on Bull’s mount without being in pain. Ivy let Bull do the driving as she chewed slowly on the leaves, the sedative letting her slide between a blissful state of unconsciousness tucked against Bull’s chest and a merry state of pain-free euphoria. The only stop they made aside from setting up camp to sleep was so Ivy could hurl the Dragon Tooth off the edge of a cliff and into a ravine.

They didn’t take time to revel in each other’s company, the lack of supplies and Bull’s fear of Ivy relapsing into infection spurring them on until the towers of Skyhold were before them and Bull was riding fast along the river banks and past surprised soldiers in the Valley Camp, surging up the mountain quickly and creating enough of a ruckus that a few extra guards sprinted to the gates.

The sedative had worn off enough that when Bull helped her down from the horse she was in pain. Letting him know with a whimper and a little bit of a glare and prompting him to order the slack-jawed guards nearby to run for a healer. They were filthy, wounds bandaged by scraps of her dress which was scandalously short now, hair wild and limping as he supported her and she looked around Skyhold with a brilliant smile.

An angry yell sounded behind the gathering soldiers who parted like a school of startled fish and Ivy was bee-lining for the source of the yell before she knew it.  
  
“What in Makers name is happening here-” Cullen was growling to his soldiers before cutting the question short and staring at Ivy who was a step away from him and a second from trying her best at tackling him to the ground. She stopped short at his confused and stunned look, thinking better than to shock him too much more with any kind of physical contact, instead she straightened as much as she could and saluted with her good arm.

“Reporting for duty, Commander.” She rasped and it was barely a second before he stepped forward, wrapping arms around her carefully and giving her the hug she was scared to give him. Her hands found the usual holds in his armour and he let out a shaky laugh before he stepped back and took a good look at her.

“Maker, Ivy.” He frowned and swallowed, glancing back at Bull. “You both look like shit.”  
  
“We feel like it.” Bull rumbled tiredly before stepping forward and wrapping his arm around her again in his supporting manner. She slumped into him and smiled tiredly.  
  
“Come on,” Cullen said quietly, gesturing at a man to take care of Bull’s horse. “Let’s get you sewn back together.”

 

The healers gave her a tea which made her feel _wonderful_ as they picked splinters out of her arm and stitched bits of her back together. She was lying on a high cot under a sheet as Bull sat back on a chair and let a nurse clean and dress the wound on his chest. It was the first time in weeks she had taken the dress off and she was more than happy for it, despite the way she smelled. She didn’t even care that she had an audience.

The only thing she cared about was the bout of maudlin Bull experienced when they stripped her and he saw the extent of her injuries for the first time, but she chased it away with a wide smile and a simple ‘ _I got my vengeance’._

“It’s good to have you back.” Leliana said in her melodic voice, “We weren’t sure we Bull would find you in time.”  
  
“I found him.” Ivy corrected with a finger in the air and a slur to her voice. “But I’m not sure how.”  
  
“I carved a groove into his stallion’s horseshoe a week before he left with you.” Bull helpfully supplied with a grin. “I knew he would split up so I sent my Chargers to follow the others in case and I followed his track, your discovery of me was lucky.”  
  
“Or fateful.” Adaar said with a queer smile and Bull and Ivy scoffed at the idea. Ivy blinked slowly at the ceiling and waved and arm at Cullen.

"Alistair-?" She began and he smiled at her.  
  
“Went back to Ferelden to track the Qunari through the Hinterlands, I've sent word to him that you're safe." He cleared his throat. "As much as we’re happy it all worked out.” Cullen said and stepped up to lean over the bench Ivy was lying on, a mock-serious look on his face. “Your decision to sacrifice yourself for Bull threw us into chaos, it was not thought out and almost started a riot among the ranks. As such I’m standing you down from active duty until a later date.”  
  
“Which is when you’re fully healed and ready to re-join the Inquisition as a part of my inner circle.” Adaar said and stepped forward with a smile, winking at Cullen. “I expect you to recover swiftly, I won’t make a move on Adamant without you.” Ivy stilled, her eyes going a little wide as she held her hand up for the healer to stop.

“Adamant?” She asked and sat up, her hand winding in the fur of Cullen’s mantle as she gripped the sheet to her chest.

“Kadan, what is it?” Bull asked curiously and Ivy smiled, tight at first before it spread wider.

“I want to see him.” She said to Cullen with barely contained excitement and he rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile.

“I’m telling you, you can’t hide anything from a Seer.” He stepped back from the bench as the door to the room burst open.

“Of _course_ you fucking can’t!” Hawke roared as the made a grand entrance with his hands up to the sky and a massive smile on his face, Varric following him with a smile and shaking his head. Cullen and Adaar made enough room for Hawke to shove his way past them and pull Ivy into a hug.  
  
“I bet Cassandra was pissed to see you.” Ivy greeted him with a laugh and a disgusted grunt emanated from the corner Cassandra was haunting.

“Yeah but for once I wasn’t in the firing line.” Hawke shot an apologetic look to Varric who shrugged before squeezing Ivy’s hand in silent greeting. “Varric tells me that our old friend absconded with you to the Wilds.” Hawke said with a half-smile, a bit of regret playing along his features. “I hope you put that asshole down for good.” Ivy returned his smile and nodded once before Bull stood and put a hand on Hawke’s shoulder, urging him to step back silently.

“I think we need to rest now.” He said and the exhaustion was evident all over him, they agreed and one by one left the room, leaving Bull alone with Ivy. He smiled at her before sliding his arms around her, one under her legs and another carefully around her torso and carried her across the room to the bed, letting her down gently as she laughed from the aches and pains.

He slid onto the bed beside her, letting out a loud and comical groan as he relaxed, Ivy rolled to him, happily tucked under his arm and let out a content sigh.  
  
“Bull?” She spoke quietly and he hummed to let her know he was listening, she inched closer to him and breathed his scent, relief washing over her knowing that she was truly safe now. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You did what you thought was right.” He said quietly, no hint of anger or disappointment. “I would have done the same if our places had been switched.” He shifted and leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her with a smile as he traced the outline of her jaw with his fingers. She chased them and pressed a kiss to his fingertips, sighing as she did.  
  
“Kadan.” She whispered and he moved her head slightly so he could smile down at her.  
  
“Kadan.” He whispered against her lips before kissing her, gentle and passionate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... that's it!
> 
> I can't believe that something that was supposed to only be a couple of chapters ended up being 31 and span nearly a year! Thank you all so much for your support, comments, Kudos and everything. As I said before this story took on twists and turns that I never considered; Leliana wasn't even meant to be in as much as she was, her reactions and role in this story almost completely derived from your comments and I love it!
> 
> The ending is a little open ended because, well, I fell in love with this character and didn't explore her *ahem* quirks as much as I could have, a lot of the story got cut and I think that someday she might resurface again, if that happens I hope you'll join me again as Ivy gets injured and injured and probably injured some more.
> 
> In the meantime I'll try to finish my other stories, FemHawke and Ari'Valen need some love too, both those fics are only a couple of chapters away from being finished. BUT, I'm more than happy for prompts, suggestions, any characters and situations. It helps keep the creativity going and I'd love to give back to you all through this.
> 
> Once again thank you, I really don't think Ivy would have gotten far without your support! Hit me up on Tumblr for nerdy stuff and Bonus material that doesn't make it into the stories!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/miajah  
> <3 <3 <3


	32. Notice for Subscribers

Just a friendly notice for the subs and bookmarkers that Part 2 has begun (because I wasn't sure if subs got notified about different parts of a series). Get some more Ivy/Iron Bull lovin by clicking the link to the next part below!  
<3


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